#yet also remind me of what I have and love
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I'm going to say something about the new unification short film that I haven't seen anyone here say yet.
I love the handholding scene. massively impactful. I love the echo of "this simple feeling" from the motion picture and the genesis reference and the idea that spock did not die alone or among strangers. it's just so satisfying after all this time to know that even shatner knew it was wrong and needed to be approached with more compassion for nimoy and the fans who loved these characters and knew they should be together at the end, whatever that looked like.
but you know what really got me?
this minute or so. kirk confronting his old selves. because that's obviously original series kirk right there in the gold uniform.
and the other? THAT'S HIM!!
(I'm linking it this way because you apparently can't add more than one video to a post and I need it here for demonstration.)
so we have present kirk walking down a dark hallway. at the end is spock, but at the end is also spock's death. how can he step forward and face that? what happened to the way he used to think about death?
yellow shirt is TOS kirk, who had always found a way around the problem and never (if the movies are to be believed) had to face death straight on. he's looking forward with confidence. there's no way spock is dying. there's a way out of this somehow, if only he can find it.
TOS kirk looks back the way he came, because he believes he can go back. he can always go back. the series always resets to the same characters who can be depended on to take similar actions, because that's what a serial is, and that's who he is. things have taken their toll on him, but he knows he can take the hit and keep moving.
but he stops when he's faces with WOK kirk. the one in the red dress uniform, who has lost spock and knows what it is to live without him. who has faced death in a way he had never had to before, because the constraints of the series never allowed it. he has been changed because of it.
TOS kirk sees that, and does that sort of posturing that he always does in front of someone who's threatening him. but WOK kirk isn't threatening him. he's just living through something TOS kirk hasn't had to face yet. it's him staring his past self in the face and telling him, kindly and firmly, you know nothing about how it will feel. you will never be the same without him.
and TOS kirk looks back again, and there's a present kirk, wearing his generations uniform. this is kirk having turned that grief to a desperate search for the most important person in his life, and emerged with spock by his side. he's not the same, but he's made it through. of course TOS kirk would look to that.
and as our kirk looks at these people he used to be, they vanish in front of him. he remembers the way he used to think about losing spock. the fear, the grief, the hope. there's no hope left. when he reaches the end, spock will be there, and it will be their last time together.
but he puts the pin back on, and reminds himself of his duty not just to a fellow officer, but to a friend, to the most important person in his life, and to himself. spock should not be alone, and he never got to say goodbye properly before. doing it now is the least he can do.
that's his ultimate responsibility in that moment: being there for spock. that's been his ultimate responsibility from the beginning. and this is shatner acknowledging that they deserved an ending that fit that truth.
#unification#star trek unification#william shatner#leonard nimoy#spirk#james t kirk#jim kirk#spock#s'chn t'gai spock#the wrath of khan#the search for spock#tos movies#analysis#meta#i have not seem the movie generations so i cant make a detailed comment about it but i have a vague idea of what happens#and i know nimoy refused to be in it
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Take your breath away
Author: bvidzsoo
Pairing: werewolf!Jeong Yunho x werewolf!female reader
☾ Warning: nudity, quite suggestive at times (honestly, they are pretty horny for each other), cursing, unhealthy amount of subtle (or not) jealousy and possessiveness ☾ Word count: 28.9k ☾ Rating: mature, nc-17 ☾ Genre: supernatural creatures!au, academy!au, werewolf!au, omegaverse-ish!au, unrequited love!au...or is it?, mates!au ☾ Summary: New beginnings are always scary, and you are no stranger to them as your family moves to a town called Nocturnal Parade, filled with other night creatures. You find lovely people here, a community, a pack to have your back, and even a best friend called Choi San. What you don't expect, however, is to find your mate, who wants nothing to do with you.
A/N: Hi, my lovelies, I am back! I know I was gone for a while, and I won't lie, I wasn't inspired at all and felt really depressed (some things just pilled up for me in these past autumn months and that mixed with seasonal depression have hit me hard), but I am feeling a lot better now! I won't promise anything, but I'll try to post again more often, and hopefully continue the on-going series I already have. Please, please, please, imagine Yunho in this one with long hair, like in the top-middle picture! And for those who have read my Mingi Preying on you tonight oneshot, I have some exciting news...this story happens in the same universe, sooo, you'll get more insight on everyone's character! ^^ (If you haven't checked it out yet, you should give it a read, the world building goes more in-depth there ^^) Also, important note to keep in mind: everyone in this story goes by the 'Song' surname since they are siblings! I hope you enjoy this story too, and a small reminder, your feedback always gives me an inspirational push, so I greatly appreciate hearing what you think of this oneshot! <3 divider ~ and because I might as well dedicate this oneshot to you for hyping me up and helping me out with it, I hope you enjoy it @hongjoongspoetry <3 ~
No matter how long I looked, he’d never glance my way. I had gotten used to his constant ignorance, but it still stung. I couldn’t help it, it was the only reasonable reaction considering we were mates.
It wasn’t anything we had spoken about, let alone even addressed, but I had known since the very first time I had laid my eyes on him. It was the change of my pulse, the way the world seemed to quiet around me, my breathing which got shallow, my pupils dilating and my eyes switching to an orchid colour that seemed to persist as my heart thundered in my chest, loud, and overbearing as I couldn’t help but watch the tall man who people surrounded, his head thrown back and mouth shielded by his long fingers as his body shook from laughing loudly. Until now I had only heard stories of what finding your mate felt like, but now I knew the feeling. I didn’t need to read fairytales about it anymore, nor would I pester my mother for the nth time to retell her story about meeting my father. I wasn’t desperate, per se, to find my mate, but the worry of growing old on my own had felt like a mosquito always buzzing around my ears, unable to kill it since I couldn’t see it. The fear of remaining alone seemed to persist in the back of my mind, and based on my mood, sometimes it would make me angry while other times just really anxious.
While living in Colourful River, the big city from North here, finding a suitor for myself had always felt like a challenging feat. There were too many creatures and humans alike who were too nosy and pestering, and I had never felt like I could be truly myself around them. I didn’t have many friends, humans or creatures, and at first, I blamed it on my shyness. Then, I started blaming it on my nerdiness as school rolled around, then it was the thought of being too plain for anyone to find me interesting and approachable, and then I gave up on finding an answer and decided that perhaps I was meant to be lonely, like my parents. In the big city, despite having lived here our whole lives, it seemed like we never found ourselves belonging to a community. Living closer to the border, the cities and towns were inhabited by many night creatures, however, that didn’t seem to change much when it came to my family. Maybe it was because we were all quiet and reclusive, maybe it was because we had never truly felt comfortable surrounded by so much happening at all times. And that is why I hadn’t felt any type of resistance or regret when my parents packed up our things and announced to me that we’d be leaving for a quiet and safe town just South of Colourful River, far from the border and the humans.
Nocturnal Parade has been a place I’ve heard plenty of. I knew it was inclusive of all the night creatures while being heavily influenced by the clergy. After all, it’s the town where the first attempts at a civilised and united nation amongst the night creatures had sparked. The vampires had taken the initiative, better said the Petrova family now known as Bae, were the founders of said town and the party that now advocated for all the night creatures all around the globe, making our voices heard, demanding respect and inclusion. They were, also, the ones to end the hatred between vampires and werewolves. Thanks to the effort and constant hard work, the werewolves had complied and formed one of the strongest alliances known to mankind with the vampires, pledging to fight by their side, to honour and respect them if their passion was returned by the vampires. And the respect had been mutual, the Petrovas didn’t stop until justice was brought to everyone, until every night creature could live a harmonious and pleasant life. It was a bit nerve-wracking to know I’d be cohabiting in a place with such ancient and respectable creatures from now on. From what I had heard of them until now, I knew only the daughter and her parents lived there still, keen on carrying the town’s, but also the family’s, legacy.
I wasn’t afraid of the change, however, I was reluctant and a little hesitant to join the Academy that had ultimately become a symbol of our unity and equality between us creatures. Back at my old schools, which were just simple regular schools frequented by both humans and night creatures, I wasn’t very liked. Everyone seemed to single me out, even my own kind, and they hadn’t always been the nicest about it. I supposed they saw me as an oddball just because I didn’t enjoy chasing a ball in our breaks and would rather play video games on forums with online friends, than play pretend that I was part of their made-up pack. Which brought another issue to light. My family had never belonged to a pack. My father’s family had long ago moved to Colourful River, leaving behind their abusive and mistreated past, meanwhile, my mother’s family had always been tightly-knit but not inclusive of strangers. So, as the elders all died, it was just my parents and me. I didn’t have any siblings, which seemed to make me even weirder since most werewolves reproduced more than once as they preferred to have big households full of children. My parents rather enjoyed the peace a single child, like me, offered them. The less mouths to feed, the better.
However, my worries seemed to be in vain once I had finally arrived in town, and then at Wilden Pine Academy. The town was lively and buzzing with creatures at every corner, all of them friendly and lacking the judgement and nosiness of the big city folk, who always watched you with inquiring eyes, desperate for a drop of gossip. Here, in Nocturnal Parade, everyone seemed to respect your space and didn’t pry anything out of you, they were simply grateful that you had chosen their haven as your home. Moving here had been probably the best decision my parents could’ve made. I liked it here, living by the outskirts of the Haunted Woods was refreshing. I could go for evening runs whenever I wanted without having to share my space with other restless werewolves, who genuinely enjoyed sharing the running track with their friends. I always found solace in solitary, I could clear my mind when it got too loud in there. Runs were pretty much therapeutic to me, I quite disliked it when I was bothered by other rambunctious werewolves who’d howl at the night sky just for the fun of it, mostly to spook the humans that ogled us rather disrespectfully.
My aloneness, however, wasn’t chased away until the academic year started and I passed through the tall iron gates of the Academy. It was a sunny day and I was impressed by the heat despite being surrounded by vast forest, the drive a long four hours until the next town, which was Nocturnal Parade. My parents were probably more excited about me starting my penultimate academic year here than I was, but it didn’t bother me. I knew they wished I’d make happy and lasting memories here, unlike the lack of them at my old schools. They hoped amongst so many night creatures I’d find at least one person who was like me, or even if not, creatures who would accept me the way I was. I hadn’t been walking down for long the gravel path when my backpack was pushed off my shoulders as someone ran past me, only to pause once they realised their actions. My luggage was heavy as I had been pulling it after me, but the boy who I thought wouldn’t even apologise for bumping into me, turned and faced me with furrowed eyebrows and a small pout.
“Sorry, my parents always say I get too excited and lose my coordination.” The boy’s voice had been gruff, a contrast with his soft features despite his sharp face. His eyebrows were straight, his eyes small and dark, his nose petite and pointy, lips pouty and fleshy, his jawline and cheekbones both sharp and defined. His short hair and the razor cut in his left eyebrow made him look intimidating until he spoke or smiled. His lips formed a pout and his eyes disappeared as a dimpled smile formed on his face, brightening his features. He was a cute boy and I had let him help me pick up my backpack, which, surprisingly, he didn’t hand back and threw around his own shoulder instead, “Are you the new family in town? The Byuns?”
I nodded and then extended a hand for him to shake, “My name is Byun Y/N, nice to meet you.”
“I’m Choi San!” The boy shook my hand with excitement lacing his tone, “I was on a holiday when your family arrived in town, that is why I wasn’t able to attend the welcoming party organised by the Songs.”
“Ah, it’s fine.” I muttered as I had started walking again, San falling in step with me, “The party was rather…overwhelming. Not that I didn’t appreciate it, but I had never been surrounded by so many loving people at once.”
San chuckled under his breath as he seemed to carry his two duffle bags as if they weighed nothing. It wasn’t hard to guess what type of creature he was simply based on his appearance already. He was massive next to me, his shoulders wide and strong looking, his chest puffed out and back rigidly straight, his hips surprisingly narrow, but his legs well-worked. He wasn’t too tall, but he had almost a head on me. Besides, his spicy scent was strong and confident, a little bit too harsh for my sensitive nose buds, but not nauseating. And like the rest of the werewolves who had been at the welcoming party, I felt no malice nor judgement coming from San, just a lot of excitement and joy as he had led us towards the right wing of the Academy, where the designated dorms for the werewolves were.
“It might sound a little bit strange, but all the werewolves act like a big pack here in Nocturnal Parade, I assume you didn’t have that back in the city?” San’s perfectly straight eyebrow raised as he threw me a quick glance since we were nearing more students, and San was obviously popular. Everyone seemed to greet him, eager to gain his attention.
“Not really,” I answered San, walking ahead to pull the building’s door open for him, “My family didn’t belong to a pack, actually.”
That had gotten San’s attention as his eyes widened once we stepped through the threshold, the inside of the building just as grandiose as the outside. It was spacious with big windows, natural light seeping through and casting a warm glow over the space, “It must’ve been lonely, then. But fear not, the Songs will adopt your family quite quickly, if they haven’t already.”
I smiled, my heart had skipped a beat at the mention of the kind, but energetic family, “They have already, actually. They had pulled my parents aside before the party and told them that we were now part of the pack, of the family, and that the community would be there for us.”
San hummed as we went up the first flight of stairs, a small smile on his face, “Our community hadn’t always been as close as it is now, but with the Songs' arrival to Nocturnal Parade everything just fell into place. I don’t think I had seen them go a day without doing something for the town or for their fellow creatures—hey, which floor is your room at?”
And that had been one year ago, when I was new to the town and wondering whether San would ever again speak to me. Right now, however, as we sat in the Flower Field behind campus, laying on a blanket and basking in the late afternoon sun, I knew San wouldn’t go a day without speaking to me. Spring was finally around the corner, and so was the Spring Break every student was impatiently awaiting. One week back home sounded really nice right now, I never failed to miss my privacy. The dorms at the Academy were shared, and my roommate snored really loudly and whined all the time. It was hard to discipline the second youngest of the Song family, so the Academy’s ruling board decided to place her with someone older than her, more mature, and possibly a good influence on the fiery blonde who liked to wreak havoc wherever she went. Not in our shared room, though, I had laid down some ground rules after rooming with Song Yeri. No loudness nor messiness was allowed, and of course, she couldn’t bring back boys into our shared room. As long as I didn’t, she wasn’t allowed either. She wasn’t thrilled by the idea, but because her parents had gotten really close with mine over the past year, Yeri was forced to abide by the rules out of fear of me ratting her out to her loving, but unforgiving, parents.
The air was still chilly and you’d become cold if you sat in one spot for too long, but the bodies of werewolves were warmer, our blood hotter, almost to the point of boiling in our veins. My cheeks were rosy as I sat with my legs crossed, a book in my lap as San hummed a silent tune next to me, laying on his stomach as he solved equations. He was planning on leaving for the big city to pursue further education, but he promised to return once he was done with it. He aspired to teach at Wilden Pine Academy, and I was more than eager to be his number-one supporter. He was great with children, and even those older seemed to respect him. San had a demanding aura, and despite him never taking advantage of that, he did know when he had to put his foot down and stop someone from running all over him. Being friends with San had showed me the wonders of companionship, of what a natural and gentle, but platonic, love felt like. I could share whatever was on my mind, at any given time, and San would be there to listen, and even take my ideas further beyond my imagination.
He was a driving force when it came to my creativity, always inspiring me and pushing me to do better and to go harder because I was capable of creating grand things. I wasn’t too sure of what I’d do once I was done with the Academy, but I could see myself being a novelist. It wouldn’t be easy at first, but if I remained diligent and focused on my task, I knew I could do it—at least San had told me so, he was kind like that. Whenever I felt insecure about something, he picked me up and changed my mind about it in mere minutes, grinning from ear to ear as his eyes twinkled. If kindness had a definition, it should’ve simply said Choi San, and I was sure everyone would understand why. The serenity surrounding us, however, didn’t last for long as a squeal of my best friend’s name echoed around the blooming flowery field. San’s body tensed for just a second before he turned onto his back, sitting up as he leaned back on his hands, looking towards the boy he was too scared to confess his true feelings to.
“Sannie!” With little regard for those around him, Wooyoung threw himself at San, tackling him back down into the blanket as San groaned, the back of his head colliding with the hard ground, “Stop doing your homework and come on a run with me, hmm?”
Wooyoung was a charming young man, mischievous and painfully loud, but he had good intentions. If I ignored him always trying to sway San away from studying, then yes, he did mostly have good intentions. I shifted a bit since Wooyoung’s leg dug painfully into my hip, who was still ignoring my presence as he blinked at San slowly, placing his hands on my best friend’s firm chest as San tried to stabilise Wooyoung by holding onto his waist.
“I have a bit of homework still to do, though.” San’s voice was quiet as the sun shone down on the two friends, and I smiled to myself as I went back to reading my book, “Could you wait for half an hour?”
“But I’ve been waiting all day for you.” I could hear the pout in Wooyoung’s voice, breathy and whiny as I chuckled under my breath, eyes focusing on the words in my book. It was jarring how alike Yeri and him were at times.
“Then you can wait a bit longer.” San’s tone wasn’t harsh, but it was chastising a bit, and it made Wooyoung groan as I smiled to myself, amused by their antics. I was sure that if I could hear San’s slight change of heartbeat, the spiciness of his scent spiking too, then Wooyoung was aware of it too. Sometimes I wondered how the latter didn’t realise San’s obvious feelings for him, but I suppose Wooyoung wasn’t a very observant person, unlike his older brother, Mingi.
“Can I stay though—” Then I felt eyes on myself and I heard shuffling around, Wooyoung finally removed himself from on top of San, “Oh, hey, Y/N. What are you doing?”
“Reading,” I muttered as I flipped the page, bored by the story but knowing I had just two days to finish reading the remaining two hundred pages.
“Is it for Literature class?” Wooyoung pressed, coming closer as he hovered over my shoulder, “Yunho’s been complaining about how shitty the book was, something about the story being too slow-paced and the side love story not making too much sense.”
I hummed, completely agreeing with Yunho, who shared a Literature class with me. At the same time, I was beyond grateful that I had learned to control my reactions at the mention of Song Yunho, who had looked my way a total of three times ever since I had arrived to Nocturnal Parade. I didn’t understand what I had done wrong to be brushed off so blatantly by him, but it hurt. It had hurt a lot more in the beginning, but I had gotten used to the feeling of dejection and disappointment that followed whenever we crossed paths. I didn’t understand whether I had upset him or not, considering that our first encounter had gone rather well. To me, it had gone more than well, but maybe Yunho didn’t share the sentiment. Almost as if summoned by some deity, I didn’t have to look to know he was approaching us. My body knew upon a simple whiff of the air, the earthy and intense scent of firewood and vanilla making my lungs feel like they couldn’t expand anymore to breathe in deeper, my skin covered in goosebumps as the world seemed to quieten around me in his presence. Yunho’s tall shadow was looming over us as he stopped at the foot of the blanket, his question directed at Wooyoung.
“Did you take my cologne, again, Wooyoung?” He didn’t sound angry, but his tone was demanding. I heard Wooyoung scoff next to me as he sat mirroring my position, looking up at his brother with a defying look in his eyes.
“No, I don’t like its scent.” Wooyoung was bad at lying, especially when we had heightened and sensitive senses and he was reeking of Yunho’s sandalwood essence cologne.
“Sure, where did you put it? I need it.” I didn’t have to look to see Yunho roll his eyes, I continued feigning that I was reading the book, but my eyes were stuck on the same sentence as I read it over and over again, the words not registering in my mind. It was hard to focus when Yunho was around.
“Are you going on a date, or what’s the rush?” I willed my heartbeat to remain steady at Wooyoung’s teasing question, to bite back the whine that threatened to leave my lips. I had no right to make claims over Yunho, but my wolf seemed to struggle to understand that. We weren’t mated, and we’d probably never be with how Yunho disregards my existence.
“Where is it, Wooyoung?” Yunho had lost his patience as his voice had an edge, his shadow still looming over us as I heard San fidget around as he turned onto his stomach to continue his homework.
“In Mingi’s bottom drawer, by the bed, where he keeps his condoms—”
“Alright.” Yunho’s tone raised, a tired huff leaving his mouth as San snickered under his breath. I didn’t react but I would’ve smiled too, Wooyoung’s brutal honesty and oversharing skills, I fear, would never be matched by anyone else I’d come across. I had a feeling it was the same for San and Yunho too, “Stop taking my things or I’ll tell mom.”
“Stop being a pussy and always ratting me out to mom,” Wooyoung’s tongue was stuck out as Yunho leaned down and harshly flicked his little brother’s forehead, making him yelp, “I’m telling mom!”
“Who’s the pussy now, huh?” I couldn’t help the smile spreading onto my lips this time as Wooyoung started whining loudly as he rubbed his forehead, his scent souring just a little bit.
San’s heart skipped a beat and I wondered whether the other two noticed, but based on their glaring contest, I highly doubted it, “Whatever, Y/N’s reading the same book as you are. Didn’t you say—”
“I’ll see you at dinner, Wooyo.” Yunho’s sharp intake of breath made me gulp as I fought hard to not show my disappointment, I knew Yunho wasn’t interested in me, but going to the extent of not even wanting to hear about me definitely stung a lot, “And don’t bother Sannie too much.”
Don’t bother Sannie too much, but I suppose he could bother me. Not that Yunho had even noticed me lounging around on the blanket, despite Wooyoung being almost all nestled up into my side since San wasn’t paying any attention to him now. I gulped down the bitterness and growing lump in my throat as Yunho departed, his footsteps loud and heavy, the sounds of the world returning to my ears once he wasn’t around anymore. Breathing was easier too, but it was a bit difficult seeing anything written on the yellowing paper since my vision was suddenly blinded by tears. It was alright, I have heard of mates that weren’t fated to be together. Of mates where only one of them imprinted on the other, and was forced to watch the love of their life mate with someone else, forced to live and die alone, without having ever experienced true and honest love. It was alright, I wouldn’t know how to gesticulate a relationship either way. I gulped and blinked my eyes fast, willing the tears to disappear before Wooyoung could notice them.
The younger boy sighed loudly next to me before he rolled over, crawling on San’s back as he laid his cheek against his friend’s scapula, “Do you mind if I take a nap like this?”
“No.” San’s voice was deeper as we shared a knowing look, Wooyoung remaining oblivious to San’s racing heart as his cheeks flushed in embarrassment when I gave him a subtle wink. If I couldn’t find my happiness, then I truly wished at least my best friend would. He’d deserve it, San deserved to be cherished and loved like no one else, and I had a feeling Wooyoung would be able to provide San with everything he needed. If only he wasn’t so oblivious to San’s feelings, besides, I had never seen Wooyoung courting anyone, we had no idea of his preferences. Whenever San tried to bring up the subject, he’d told me Wooyoung would smartly twist it until they weren’t even talking about it anymore. Maybe he was avoiding it because he had noticed San’s reactions and was afraid to hurt his best friend, or maybe he was avoiding it because he had been feeling something he didn’t understand quite yet. It wasn’t taboo for werewolves to find love amongst their own gender, but I suppose growing up in a place where nobody was like you must be nerve-wracking and rather full of uncertainty. This only made me realize that despite the cons of living in the big city had its pros as well since I grew up in a diverse and inclusive place, open and uncaring of who loved who.
But if Wooyoung’s romantic preferences remained unknown to us, Yunho’s certainly didn’t. He was unlike anyone I have met before, starting from his personality and ending with his looks. He was the eldest of the family, a good few minutes older than his twin brother, Mingi, and so naturally he was also the biggest and strongest. He was intimidatingly tall and freakishly broad, his shoulders wide and his back strong. He wasn’t visibly muscular but I’ve seen him countless times lifting logs, and even heavier things, without breaking a sweat to know that Yunho was outrageously strong. His hair was a dark brown and it had grown out since I had first met him, now always messy and curly as it reached his shoulders, making him look more boyish than the first time I had seen him. He had red highlights in his hair a year ago, adding to his mysterious allure, as his lips were a soft pink, the apple of his cheeks and nose dusted coral, which was a nice contrast with his paler complex, unlike Mingi’s whose skin was a beautiful caramel. The twins weren’t identical, but upon a closer look, you were able to tell just how many attributes they shared.
Yunho loved experimenting with his style, and he mostly wore coloured clothes, all flashy and somehow still cosy looking, however, his shoes always seemed to be mismatched. It was a peculiar feat that had me wondering whether Yunho was just generally weird or he just had a particular taste when it came to fashion, I soon had realized it was the latter. His nails were always well-kept and painted either a turquoise or a yellow colour, bringing attention to his already beautiful hands, his fingers long and bony and mostly decorated by black rings. His scent, that earthy firewood and vanilla, was just as attention-grabbing as the rest of Yunho. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve assumed Yunho was a very serious person, highly focused on his education, someone who spent his days cooped up in his room reading and learning all the time. But the Songs weren’t too focused on getting high grades, and that became apparent rather quickly after I arrived at the Academy. Yunho was a goofy guy, he loved having fun and he really enjoyed being surrounded by people, always eager to share a laugh with someone, or just fall into idle chitchat for hours on end. People seemed to gravitate towards him, eager to have a word with him. It wasn’t just him, though, students at the Academy all seemed to love the Song family, especially the twins who felt like fresh air in the dull and mediocre town that Nocturnal Parade seemed to be at first glance.
However, as mediocre as it was, I had never felt more at ease in a place before. It truly felt like I had found a community for myself and for my family, a place where everyone had your back and expected nothing in return even at the slightest of help offered. My parents loved it here, it was rather obvious since my mother was smiling more, the wrinkles were gone from her face, and my father wasn’t as stressed as before. Working as an archivist in the big city had been demanding, but in this quiet town where nobody was rushing forward with their lives, my parents could take a breather. And I could too, until I quickly realized I had been blatantly rejected by my potential mate before even getting to know them. The day we had arrived in Nocturnal Parade had been long and nerve-wracking, I had no idea what would await us in this new place. That same day, the werewolves threw a welcoming party for our family, eager to welcome us into their pack.
It was late evening by the time my family had sorted most things out at our small house, which was on the same street as the Songs and right by the Pinecone Forest, the perfect neighbourhood for relentless werewolves that needed a lot of space to get rid of their impulsive energy. The party was in the backyard of the Songs family and was full of creatures by the time we made it there. It was warm, welcoming, and felt genuine from the second we stepped through their threshold. The family was big, but each one of them was gentle and eager to meet us, even the troublemakers which were Wooyoung and Yeri. And after that, it didn’t take long for me to become once again invisible as I stood close to the drinks table in the Songs' backyard, gazing out towards the bonfire as the sun was about to set. The evening breeze was warm still and a light sheen of sweat coated my temples as I sipped my cool lemonade slowly, embarrassed to refill it for the fourth time. My solace, however, didn’t last for longer as I noticed two towering figures beeline towards me. Their hair was tousled and they looked like they had been wrestling before they headed here, and I felt nervous upon realizing that they were probably the twins Mrs. Song had been talking about.
They had been out on their evening run and would only join us later, and they were very much so headed my way to introduce themselves. My heart was racing and I felt nervous, but I willed myself to calm down since I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of two potential classmates once I’d started attending Wilden Pine Academy, which had been another anxiety-inducing thought at that time. The two guys, so very different in appearance yet so similar in mannerisms, sported matching smiles on their faces by the time they reached me. The one who was dressed in all-black and wore heavy jewellery had long hair which was pulled back into a half-up ponytail, his hair blonde and red, a rather cool-looking hairstyle. His features were sharp and his gaze was intense, but his open-mouthed boxy smile softened his features, his crooked front teeth endearing. The other one, however, was dressed in a pink crop top and high-waisted yellow jeans, one of his sneakers green meanwhile the other was turquoise. His hair had been shorter than the other guy’s, darker in colour too as it had red highlights, parted at the forehead. His features were a lot softer, his eyes rounder and warm, his cheeks puffy and rosy, his pouty lips a dark purple. His nails were painted turquoise and his jewellery was a lot simpler than the other guy’s, and I quickly realised that unless he was smiling, he looked just as intimidating as his twin brother.
But really, Yunho’s appearance wasn’t the first thing that caught my attention, sure, he looked unusual and made me remember the days when I was a lot younger and would purposefully dress up my Barbie dolls in silly outfits and organise pageants for them, but it was all about his scent and demeanour. The world seemed to dim around me when we had made eye contact, my arms and legs feeling numb suddenly as his rich earthy musky scent tinged with a hint of sweat invaded my nostrils, followed by firewood mixed with vanilla making my tongue feel like lead. My heart was racing and I couldn’t do anything about it as I watched Yunho’s pupils expand, his body turning rigid as Mingi remained oblivious to the subtle exchange between me and his twin. I had known that whatever I felt just upon a glance and a whiff weren’t simple reactions of my body, but when I heard his voice and touched his warm skin, all of my fears and worries were answered.
“Hi,” It was the slightly shorter twin that addressed me first, his voice deep and lightly raspy, “You must be the Byuns’ daughter, right?”
I wasn’t able to find my voice as I nodded wordlessly, hands tightening around my cup of icy lemonade. Thankfully they didn’t seem offended by my lack of verbal response, I could only pray they would assume my heart raced so wildly because I was nervous. I tried to ignore the fact that the taller twin’s heart was thumping even louder than my own heart, blaming it on the remaining adrenaline from his run, “My name is Yunho and this is my twin brother, Mingi.”
One large hand was extended towards me then, and as I grabbed it to shake it, I was positive Yunho must’ve felt the electricity that coursed through my body at the simple touch. It had felt as if my whole being was charged, as if I was experiencing the whole world for the first time. Everything sounded sharper, looked brighter, and smelled fresher. I could feel Yunho’s pulse in my own palm, his gorgeous eyes shaking as we stood frozen, gripping each other’s hands tightly. But upon Mingi’s awkward throat clearing, I ripped myself away from under the charm, and faced the guy with a small smile, “Nice to meet you two, I’m Y/N.”
Touching Mingi, however, felt like touching anyone else. My body was still tingling from Yunho’s touch, but I had felt nothing special as Mingi grinned widely at me, his handshake just a little firmer than Yunho’s had been. Once we released each other’s hands I was quick to down my lemonade, subtly trying to pat the sweat from my temples away, embarrassed over the fact that my scent was most probably spiking and irking them. But neither boy commented about it as Yunho’s deep eyes remained trained on me, tracking all of my actions.
“You just arrived, right?” Yunho’s voice was a lot steadier than mine had been, and I gulped, trying to ignore the sigh that threatened to leave my lips at the warm rumble of his tone.
“Yes, somewhere around noon. The drive wasn’t too long, though.” I hoped if I spoke fast and a lot they would blame my reactions on nervousness, “We’ve been looking forward to moving here, I’ve heard a lot of great things about this town due to the Petrovas and everything. I assume living here is rather good.”
The mention of that name seemed to make the twins grimace, but I didn’t pry and they didn’t say anything about it, “Surely it is, we’ve moved here roughly nine years ago, but it just feels like we were meant to be in this town, to live here.”
Mingi’s tone was earnest as he spoke and I smiled at him, my eyes constantly slipping back onto Yunho, who looked like he hadn’t blinked since the twins had reached me. I gulped and smiled softly at him, wondering whether he felt the same visceral emotions as I did in his presence, under his burning stare.
“I hope I’ll find a home in this town too, I haven’t been here for long, but it certainly feels a lot cosier than the big city had been for my whole life.” My tone turned a bit sour as I shifted on my feet, making the twins look at me curiously.
“You’re from Colourful River, right? It’s a big city, we always liked going there for random trips.” It made me wonder if Yunho and I had unknowingly run into each other before, but my inner wolf told me that we hadn’t. If we had been, I’m sure our parents would’ve never been able to separate us from each other, “It must’ve been nice living amongst humans.”
I tried not to stare at Yunho’s inviting plush lips while he spoke, but it was hard. Everything about him was so captivating, “Since the city is closer to the South than North, it isn’t dominated by humans, but they were rather alright, not as scared as all the legends say. But if you go up North they might not be as friendly as those living closer to the border.”
“Did you have human friends?” Mingi’s tone was eager as he grinned at me, and I didn’t want to disappoint him, but there was no point in lying to these two.
“I didn’t have many friends,” I muttered, chuckling a bit sadly, “But the humans were less evil compared to the night creatures.”
Silence settled upon the three of us as I didn’t look up at the two, but Yunho’s stare remained insistent. He had stepped closer meanwhile we had been conversing, and I hadn’t even noticed until his strong scent hit my nose once again, making me take a deep breath and gulp it down hungrily, thankful when it felt like the scent got stuck in my throat. I hadn’t experienced anything like this before, but the yearning to be close to him, to touch him and feel him was overwhelming all of a sudden as I looked up, finding Yunho’s head tilted as his eyes slowly racked over my body. It made my cheeks burn and my muscles tense, my wolf stirring in something that I could only call arousal. I have certainly not experienced anything like this before with anyone. I wondered if this meant anything deeper, whether imprinting on first sight was a real thing or only something made up for hopeless romantics.
“You’ll see finding friends here will be a lot easier than in the big city,” Mingi’s smile was warm and he reached a hand out to pat my arm, making Yunho’s eyebrows furrow as he looked at his twin sharply. Mingi just cast him a curious glance before his name was being called by his mother, her voice louder than the cacophony of the party, “Oh, I’ll be back after I see what mom needs from me.”
Then he left, jogging towards his mother with a smile. Yunho, however, took another step towards me, looming over me as his eyebrows furrowed, nostrils flaring as I gulped nervously, wondering whether he felt the same as I did. I wanted to ask, but I was embarrassed. He reached a hand forward, his fingers brushing against mine, but he seemed to catch himself as he took a step back, jaw set tightly. And then, without saying anything, he turned and hurried away, ignoring the people who called out his name. My heart raced as I watched him leave, suddenly feeling cold and empty. The wolf in my head whined and whispered at me to chase after him, to claim him and tell him that he was ours, but I couldn’t do that. Yunho had free reign of his feelings and thoughts, I couldn’t force something like that on him. We hadn’t even known each other five minutes ago, it would’ve been so wrong.
But what was even more wrong and more painful than anything I had experienced before was the fact that Yunho never looked my way again after that, remaining silent and avoidant, ignorant, he’d even flee the room if it was just the two of us. I didn’t even have the chance to have him before I lost him, and deep down, I knew I had been denied by my own mate. It was painful, but it wasn’t anything I could change, at least, it didn’t feel like it at the moment.
With the Spring Break right around the corner, the hallways were liverier than before as students pilled together, eagerly discussing what they were up to once they’d return home. The professors seemed to be in a lighter mood as well, a lot friendlier too, and more understanding if someone slacked off a bit. Everyone but our Literature professor, who demanded we hand in our essays right before the week ended. Today was Friday and we’d be heading home tomorrow, I was hitchhiking with San’s family since they’d offered to drive us home as they were out of town and would drive by our Academy on their way home. San’s parents were busy businessmen so they were always on the go, oftentimes leaving San and his much older sister at home, who was a rather successful makeup artist in Nocturnal Parade and not just. She’d gotten an out-of-town offer just last month and the gig went well, so, she was now successfully expanding her business. But because I had been procrastinating my essay until the last moment, it meant that I had been cooped up in the Library this whole morning, and then later in the Study Hall as late evening was approaching.
My muscles ached from sitting in the same spot for so long and my eyes stung from being too dry, I had been staring at my laptop’s bright screen for an ungodly amount of time, if I wasn’t a werewolf I bet my eyesight would be horrible by now. Thankfully, the Study Hall was a lot less packed than usual, and the absence of students meant I could work in peace without distractions. That is until Yunho decided to walk into the vast room, eyes scanning the place and quickly jumping over my presence as my eyes burned into the side of his head. Of course, it was no surprise that I had been completely ignored by him once again, resigned, I went back to the finishing touch-ups of my essay. My heart ached and my hands felt cold now that I knew Yunho was in my vicinity, so close, yet miles away still. I gulped and willed myself to ignore his musky scent that seemed to haunt my every sense now, and I could’ve cheered when I was finally finished with the essay. I didn’t waste any more time sending it to my professor as I swiftly gathered my things and rushed out of the Study Hall, heart racing in my chest.
My muscles had been aching for an evening run and I knew I’d have to skip dinner tonight since I felt restless, my thoughts messy and filled with anxious whispers. Since most students were returning home tomorrow morning, it meant that the community would be organising a welcome home bonfire as soon as possible. The bonfires were great and I always had a good time, but it was inevitable to come across the Song family there since they were the main organizers of it. Just last year, when the Summer Break finally arrived, I had been squeezed between Wooyoung and, tragically, Yunho on a log, forced to endure Yunho’s rigid stance and complete ignorance as he chatted and laughed with everyone around us. My skin had been burning, not because of the close proximity to the fire, and my wolf was whining at me to touch him, to lean closer, to speak to Yunho. But I knew it was pointless, and thus, decided to save myself from embarrassment as I quickly excused myself and walked back home, rather glad that San wasn’t home to pester me about my sudden sour mood. San was a dear friend, but sometimes he was awful at giving me space, at understanding that I needed to be alone to figure my thoughts and feelings out.
That was why I never let him know when I’d go on runs, I preferred to be alone either way. The air wheezing past my ears, which were in tune with everything around me, was always freeing and relaxing. My jumbled thoughts became a silent murmur in the back of my mind as my paws hit the forest floor powerfully, strong and long legs carrying me far away from the Academy, from the campus, from any other possible wolf that I could come across. I liked solitary, it’s what I knew my whole life, it was comfortable and comforting. Whenever I let my wolf take over, it was as if I was reborn once I shifted back into my human form. I felt invincible as my burgundy fur gleamed under the setting sun rays, and I leered whenever another animal made haste in my presence. In my wolf form, everything felt simpler, more primitive, and less complicated. If I could, I would probably never shift back into my human form, but that was unethical and very unhealthy. I wasn’t a wolf, I was just a simple werewolf, and abandoning my human side would mean that I was going rogue. And lone, rogue, werewolves never survived for long. It wasn’t what we were designed for, so I couldn’t abandon my true self.
My run tonight had taken longer than usual, the forest was now dark as I returned to the shed that lay just on the outskirts of the campus, not too close, but not too far either in case of an emergency. I had found it on an early morning stroll with San, and I had been using it as my hideout ever since. It was a good spot for privacy while I’d change out of my clothes, away from prying eyes when I’d turn back into my human form, naked and unprotected. I wasn’t uncomfortable by nudity, after all, it was rather common and normal amongst werewolves to see each other bare, but I was shy, and thus, preferred to remain hidden from other’s eyes. San had joked once that I was a prude and old-fashioned, but I just simply wished that not everyone saw me so exposed, it was a tiny bit embarrassing even if it was very normal for our kin. So, the shed was the perfect spot for me to stay out of sight while being close enough to campus that if I was late for curfew I’d make it back swiftly and unnoticed, like tonight. I knew I probably had only a few minutes to make it back to the right wing, but as I had no devices on me, I wouldn’t know until I made it back to my clothes. San was certainly blowing up my phone by now, asking where I was and why I didn’t join him when it was quiz night—which only meant that I would question him about whichever lesson he had decided he didn’t know well enough, so really, it wasn’t a fun activity, but I loved San, so, I helped him out from time to time.
Taking a deep whiff of the air, waiting for a second to determine whether anyone was in my vicinity, I was glad when my wolf sensed nothing, so I nudged the shed’s door open with my fur-coated head and walked inside. The small lamp I had turned on cast a dim warm hue over the abandoned place, and I approached the table as I felt my bones shifting, my jaw locking in tight and my lungs constricting for a second. My joints popped and my head felt like it was splitting in two, but it all lasted for a second or two, until I was standing tall on my legs, hands reached out to stabilise myself on the table. Shifting wasn’t painful by any means, but it always left me a bit disoriented. The doctors in the city had told me it was because I was an early bloomer, my body forced to mature before its right time, so it wasn’t anything necessarily bad, just uncomfortable. As I regained my senses and shook my head to clear the dizziness, my muscles locked up and my wolf purred loudly, almost to the point it escaped past my own lips. Something was amiss. In the dim lighting, I noticed another heap of clothes thrown on the ground, just by the entrance. The scent too…it was familiar, too familiar, and I panicked. How had I missed it? Had I become so used to it that it didn’t faze my wolf anymore?
As I hastily tried to grab my clothes, nakedness be damned I’d get dressed on the way, the shed’s door was slammed open, a low grunt echoing in the otherwise silent space. My eyes widened as a gorgeous black wolf with orchid eyes stared back at me, huffing and puffing as saliva dripped from its mouth. It was big and strong, its vanilla and firewood scent a lot more permeating than before. My knees felt weak as my hands tightened into the table, holding myself up since my brain was short-circuiting. For a second, the big black wolf didn’t move, its snarl loud in the shed, but then, bones cracked and the black fur slowly disappeared as the wolf shifted into something more human looking, tall and lean, strong and…very naked. My eyes widened when I finally realised it was Yunho standing in the doorway, his eyes still orchid coloured as they bled into mine, and I was frozen as my wolf started whining, whispering to me to approach Yunho, to touch his hot and strong body, to entice him and make him claim us.
Yunho’s body was anything like I had seen before. He was alluring by all means, and the lower my eyes dropped the tighter my chest felt, the lump in my throat getting bigger and harder to ignore. I had seen many guys naked before, but they couldn’t compare to Yunho, everything about him was…big. My hands flattened against the surface of the table and I tilted my head before I could stop myself, well aware that my wolf was more in charge of me than my own conscience, my eyes a bright orchid as Yunho’s lips pressed into a straight line, his eyes not shy of taking in every curve of my body, his hands balling up into fists at his sides. It was hard to breathe, and it was even harder to control my bodily reactions when Yunho was so close, so exposed and vulnerable for taking. And maybe he was thinking the same thing because all of a sudden, we were moving towards each other, our eyes glimmering in the dim light and our chests heaving as I bared my fangs at Yunho, whose lips curled into a low snarl. I was so close to touching him, I could feel his body heat, but I knew I couldn’t. We weren’t ourselves just yet, the adrenaline coursed through our bodies from the run, and our wolves were stronger and louder than under normal circumstances. He would’ve been so easy to touch, though, as we stopped barely a few feet away from each other, desire written all over his features, but in a last attempt to find control over my body and mind, I snapped out under my wolf’s control.
I found my voice, but just barely, as my cheeks flushed a deep red, “I’m—I—I thought nobody knew of the shed, I—I’m, uh, I’m sorry for barging in. I didn’t know—I’ve never seen you here before, I—”
“Y/N.” Yunho’s voice was deeper than ever before, his round eyes dangerous as they were narrowed into slits, watching me closely. Just hearing my name said like that shut me up really fast as my heart raced in my chest, and I knew Yunho could hear it. It was so loud. I could’ve touched him, my wolf wanted it desperately, but Yunho wasn’t himself just yet, he didn’t look like it, “I’ve gone to this Academy for longer than you, of course I know about this place. Mingi and I come here all the time.”
I released a shuddering breath, forcing my eyes to stay on his face, anywhere but lower as I couldn’t trust myself and my wolf just yet. I really wanted to reach out and trace his firm muscles, to cradle him close to myself, to burry my face between his pecks, to lick the sweat beads that rolled down his navel, lower into his happy trail until they reached his— “You should go before Mingi returns.”
I jumped, mouth dry as I realised I was staring lower than I was supposed to, my whole chest and ears burning now, not just my cheeks, “I’m sorry.” I managed to mutter before I hurried back to the table and clumsily put on my clothes. I knew I looked like I had been mauled by how messy my hair was, my shirt untucked and one of the pantlegs rolled lower than the other, but I needed to leave before I’d do something I’d regret later. Yunho wasn’t mine, we weren’t mated, and I couldn’t do anything about it. But as I went to rush past him, he caught my wrist with frightening speed, his palm hot and large. I gulped but didn’t look at him, my eyes falling on the heap next to his clothes, very clearly Mingi’s now that he had pointed it out.
“You shouldn’t show yourself to just anyone, Y/N, it’s lowly.” The pang in my heart was more painful than anything I had experienced before. What did he mean by that? I had literally been on out a run, of course, I wasn’t showing myself to just anyone, it was only normal I was naked, or was I supposed to shift while wearing my clothes only to rip them apart? Besides, who had permitted him to say such things when he was the biggest manwhore I had known to date?! His words hadn’t just hurt me, they ignited an angry fire deep in my veins that had lay dormant for too long.
“Is it lowly shifting back into my human form after a run, Yunho? Really?” I chuckled humourlessly, my next words coming out in a snare as I looked at him with a glare, “You’re rather quick to judge me when you have no shame sleeping with half of the Academy, shouldn’t that be considered lowly?”
Before Yunho could say anything and before I could regret the words I had just spoken, I stormed off, flinching as I almost collided with a large white wolf, its head tilted in confusion as we stared at each other for a second. I gulped and averted my orchid-coloured eyes, “Hello, Mingi.”
The wolf huffed and bowed his head slightly, and despite wanting to flee, I pushed the door open for him as the wolf let out an appreciative whine, its eyes switching between Yunho and me once it was halfway inside the shed. But I didn’t wait around to hear Mingi’s questions as I rushed back to campus, checking my phone to see five missed calls from San and ten even angrier texts than the voicemails he left, clearly upplaying his sadness. I could hear Wooyoung’s witchy cackle in the background as he no doubt was playing on San’s new PlayStation. A quick text later, I let San know that I had lost track of time while I was on my run and that we’d see each other during breakfast the next morning. Sneaking around the dorms to sleep in San’s bed tonight would’ve been worth, if only my heart and mind weren’t in turmoil, aching all over again due to Yunho’s nasty and undeserved assumptions. I had no idea why he acted so differently with me, it’s like he was a completely different person in my presence, and I didn’t enjoy it. It hurt me deeply. What had I done to deserve such coldness from him?
The ride home with the Chois was filled with laughter and sharing stories, the radio lowered once San and I started telling them about the Academy and our classes. San’s family had always felt like a second family to me. They were warm and very loving people, even if I had initially struggled to warm up to them, they had never pushed or pried for any information, no matter how insignificant it was. Thus, I came to trust them rather quickly since Mrs. Choi loved baking and would often invite me over during the holidays. Besides, I’d always leave with a basketful of whichever cookies Mrs. Choi decided to bake that day, and since my mother has a sweet tooth, she was always more than eager to send me over to the Chois to help them out. San’s parents' business trip was successful and they managed to expand their branches to the North as well, which would require them frequent trips to Aurora Falls, which was the biggest human settlement in our country. It seemed that there were human investors who were eager to expand their businesses to the South, which would benefit them a lot since their franchises were mostly nonexistent around here. It was a day to celebrate, which the Chois were really good at doing. I knew they’d smuggle in some really expensive champagne tonight to the bonfire, after all, they did everything with grandeur.
My parents had been lounging around the front porch when the Chois's expensive SUV pulled up in front of our humble abode, my mother’s face had lit up like a Christmas tree as she came to welcome me home, and the Chois as well. After quick hugs and kisses, the Chois were off and I was left with my parents, who were smiling from ear to ear.
“Look at you!” My father had said as he engulfed me in a bear hug and spun me around, making me giggle into his chest, “You’re radiating, what are they feeding you at the Academy?”
“Mrs. Nam’s cooking is really delicious, but I don’t think it’s because of the food.” I giggled as my feet had finally touched the ground. My mother stood to the side, my duffle bag already in her hand as she shook her head at our antics, “I suspect it’s the clear air and the vast forest grounds.”
“You’re still running on your own?” My mother’s eyebrows had furrowed as I walked up to her, throwing an arm around her shoulders as we headed for the house. The rumble of a loud engine reached our ears as we took the steps up the porch. I knew whose car it was, it was hard to miss when nobody else’s car engine was as loud as the Song twins, “Mrs. Song told me her sons had proposed to go on runs with you, but you’ve turned them down each time. I know we’re all still adjusting to living in a pack, but having company on your runs is actually very healthy for you and your wolf, my dear.”
I wished to correct my mother that it had been Mingi who had proposed to come on runs with me, no mention of Yunho. We had crossed paths once while we were both out hunting during a full moon and because my cramps had been really bad that day, Mingi was nice enough to remain a respectable distance away and guide me for the night, keeping an eye out for other not-so-kind predators. There were months when my shifting went a little haywire during the full moon, my senses dull and my bones all miss shaped. Again, the doctors hadn’t found anything wrong with me, they suspected it was due to my early blooming, which wasn’t helping much. As we reached the front door, my father already opening it for us, the honk of a loud car made us turn back and look towards the orange Jeep, its windows rolled down, and the younger Song siblings cooped up in the backseat.
“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Byun!” Mingi called from the driver’s seat, all smiles as his glasses looked to be slipping off his nose. Wooyoung was just as enthusiastic as he leaned out the window, the car going at a slow pace now that they had almost reached their house.
“See you tonight, right?!” Wooyoung shouted as he grinned widely, pointing specifically at me, “Can’t leave Sannie on his own, right?!”
“Right.” My voice didn’t have much force to it as my eyes stalled on Yunho, who was facing the windshield, his jaw set tight as he looked at Mingi and said something inaudible. I released a quiet sigh as we stepped through the doorway, my parents sharing a laugh at the siblings' antics. I tried to ignore the lump in my throat, the fire in my veins, the ache of my heart. Yunho’s hurtful words were still too fresh in my mind, the look in his eyes and the vivid image of his body a constant image in the front of my mind. It wasn’t surprising that I was still thinking about him. We had encountered each other just last night, after all, but I wished we never had. It was hard to ignore the yearning, especially when we were back at home, forced to visit the Songs weekly since our parents had grown so close with each other. I was happy for them, don’t misunderstand me, but I wished the Song parents stopped blaming my ‘loneliness’ on being an only child, thus forcing me to constantly hang out with their children. I didn’t have any issues with the five of them, per se, but I hardly found anything I had in common with them—minus Yunho, since he wouldn’t even look my way, let alone have a conversation with me.
“You should tell San to sleep over tonight, maybe his parents can stay too!” My father’s words distracted me from my thoughts as I headed for the stairs, eager to fall into my comfortable bed, no Yeri to disturb my peace this time.
“Honey, they had barely returned home, let the Chois enjoy having their son home for at least three more days.” My mother gently chastised my father as she headed up the stairs after me, my duffle bag still in her hand, “He’ll sleep over before they go back to the Academy.”
“Fine, but I found a really cool book about genealogy, I’m sure he’d love reading through it.”
“Sure, honey, sure.” My mother and I shared an amused look which made us chuckle, my father’s mumbled words blending into the background as he was headed for his study room, surely eager to get back to whatever book he was reading this time, “Get some sleep before lunch, Mama Song asked us to head over before they set the bonfire, she’s making a new mushroom stew recipe she’d like us to try.”
“Yeah, okay,” I mumbled as I fell face-first into my pillows, groaning loudly as my muscles finally eased up, my body cocooned in the safety of my own scent. Finally, a little peace of mind.
But that peace of mind didn’t last for long. The Song household was buzzing with life and laughter even before the other members of our community had started joining the bonfire. The mushroom stew was beyond delicious, and if I wasn’t too shy, I would’ve asked for a second plate but decided I could sneak in sometime during the evening and have a second plate, I knew Mrs. Song wouldn’t mind since she was generous like that. Lunch went surprisingly well, mostly with everyone talking over each other, especially Wooyoung, Yeri, and Mr. Song, but that was to be expected. The Songs were very eccentric people and their household had always been chaotic. However, what did take me by surprise was the presence of a newcomer, someone who wasn’t a werewolf. Her hair was dark and fell in long curls, her skin pale and her eyes very sharp, her lips the colour of blood and her stance very elegant. If I hadn’t known better, I would’ve thought she hated us, but anytime Mingi looked at her she’d smile at him and her heartbeat would waver whenever he laughed. It wasn’t hard to guess that she was the Petrova heir, the youngest vampire of the Bae’s. Knowing so much about them, thanks to my father, sitting at a table with her now felt surreal.
She didn’t look like she wanted to talk much, but when my father’s innocent curiosity got the best of him and he started asking questions, she seemed rather pleased that she could gloat about her family. Her tone was sharp and she spoke rather straightforwardly, yet it was somehow obvious she didn’t mean bad. She was a peculiar person and I felt immense respect for her, no real reason as to why, maybe it’s because I thought she was very cool. I wasn’t brave enough to speak to her, so, besides stolen glances and a few shared glances, no words passed between the two of us. Besides, she was an amazing distraction to preoccupy my busy mind since conveniently Yunho and I ended up sitting next to each other. His body was warm, his scent almost tangible, and with every bite I took of my stew, it felt as if Yunho’s sandalwood scent was deep in my throat, forcing me to gulp down copious amounts of water as if I was sitient all the time. Yunho sat rigidly next to me, his body mostly turned away from me and facing Dahyun, his youngest sister, who looked absent-minded as she played with her fork, occasionally staring at Mingi if he made the vampire girl laugh. She carried Mingi’s scent and a bite mark was visible on her nape, it wasn’t hard to guess what she and Mingi were. Mates.
Thankfully, after lunch was over, San shortly arrived too and I could escape from the Song family, from Yunho, walking around the back garden as we searched for timber that would be good for the bonfire. Wooyoung, of course, came to join us and Dahyun was quick to do so too, with Mingi and Yunho busy setting up the back garden as our parents all helped. The vampire girl was busy in the kitchen, apparently, she could bake really yummy muffins, so she was busy doing just that. Once everything was set and people were coming over, Wooyoung sneaked off to bring us cans of beer, San cheering as we all uncapped ours, clinking them together loudly. The cold sparkling drink burned my parched throat as I wolfed it down, making San chuckle as Wooyoung was busy checking his friend’s free hand for splinters. I said nothing as a blush covered San’s cheeks, his eyes fond, as Wooyoung fussed about his friend.
“Mom said she’d leave us a little bit of champagne,” San grinned as he switched the hand holding his can of beer, Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrowed as his fingers gently traced San’s free palm, “It’ll be in the highest cupboard.”
“Only Mingi and Yunho can reach that high, though,” Wooyoung mumbled with a pout, still holding onto San’s hand despite being done with his inspection. I chuckled as San gave Wooyoung a look, his chest almost puffing out more.
“Are you sure about that?” He raised a straight eyebrow, leaning closer to Wooyoung’s face. I watched with intrigue as Wooyoung slightly caved in on himself, gulping almost nervously. His heartbeat remained steady, though, so I couldn’t tell for sure whether San’s proximity made him nervous, “Who got that stuck ball off the basket last time, I don’t reckon it was your brothers?”
“Well,” Wooyoung huffed, averting his eyes when San only leaned closer. I almost grinned when Wooyoung’s heart very loudly skipped a beat, but his eyebrows furrowed as he swiftly straightened himself, giving San a pointed look, “You can jump high. And I suppose you have strong arms, it was sheer luck, really.”
Before the two could start bickering, I chuckled and reached a hand out towards Wooyoung, “Won’t you check my hands for blisters too?”
Wooyoung seemed a little bit too eager to scurry off the log he was sharing with San as he kneeled in front of me, taking my hand into his. I chuckled and looked at San as I took a swing of my beer, Wooyoung’s warm fingers tracing lines as he hummed under his breath, turning my palm over, “You have pretty hands, Y/N.”
“Thank you,” I said, then switched my hands as Wooyoung continued to inspect them, a flush appearing on his face when San reached out to pet his hair since it was tousled by the wind earlier. It had settled now into a pleasant evening breeze. The chatter, music, and laughter coming from around the bonfire felt nice, warm. As I gazed at the fire, I was greeted by the sight of werewolves cosying up and sharing drinks and stories. I’ve never had this in the big city, it felt really nice to be surrounded by creatures that had your back even if they didn’t know you well.
Wooyoung chuckled, his finger digging into my skin, right underneath my pinkie, “Yunho has the same exact moles here too, on the same hand as well.”
My body froze as San’s eyebrows raised, he quickly scurried off the log to join Wooyoung crouching in front of me. I tried to keep the smile on my face, but the taste in my mouth soured as I looked down at the three moles that I’ve always had on my left palm, right underneath my pinkie finger.
“Really?” San sounded surprised and excited at the same time, “Are you sure?”
“Of course,” Wooyoung scoffed as he gave San a side glance, “He’s my brother, I know him. He’s always said that they look like stars. Before our sisters were born, he’d said they represented him, Mingi, and me. Of course, the closest to the one he called himself was Mingi because they are twins and blah blah, sometimes this twin thing gets old.”
“You’re just jealous.” San teased Wooyoung as my eyes were stuck on the three moles, something in my stomach dropping. I’ve always said the three dots looked like stars and represented my family: my mom, my father, and me. We’d always be there for each other, close by, looking over one another. Wooyoung and San’s voices drowned out as they started bickering about whether Mingi and Yunho had a deeper bond than any other werewolf due to them being twins, but my mind was spinning with this new piece of information. It suddenly felt wrong having those moles there, especially since Yunho didn’t want to have to do anything with me. I gulped, retracting my hand from Wooyoung’s hold as I stood abruptly, taking the two guys off guard.
“Uhm, I’ll just see what my parents are up to if you don’t mind…” I knew my scent had soured, San’s furrowed eyebrows told me he had realised something had upset me. But I just smiled and patted Wooyoung’s head before I walked around my friends, my heart slightly racing as the chilly evening seemed to bite at my nose, making me sniff harder and harder by the time I reached my parents, who were talking to the Academy’s Principal, Mr. Kim.
“Oh, Miss Byun,” The Principal was the first one to spot me, and he smiled as my parents beckoned me even closer, “I was just complimenting you. Ever since Miss Yeri started rooming with you, her grades not only went up but she’s been better behaved too.”
“Oh, uhm, that’s great.” I tried to even out my expression, praying that my parents wouldn’t question my souring mood, “I didn’t do much, just asked her to follow some rules. She also asked if I could sometimes help her out with her homework.”
“Fascinating,” The Principal muttered as my parents looked at me proudly, making me feel a little bit shy, “I knew letting her room with Miss Son wasn’t too smart, those two gave me more headache than the ruling board does on the daily.”
The Principal’s comment had my parents laughing, the shared glance between them amused, and suddenly I realised I’d never have that. I would never have a mate that stood by my side, cosied up to me, spoke to me about whatever insanity crossed their minds, no shared understanding glances, no cheek or neck nuzzles, no unbreakable bond, nothing. My jaw tightened as the air spiked with sandalwood and vanilla, and I hoped it would pass by before the tears could spring into my eyes. But the Universe seemed to be working against me today because the Principal caught Yunho’s bicep before he could stalk off, his expression soft and his eyes questioning. He hadn’t noticed my presence yet, because I knew his round eyes would turn harsh and his pouty lips would pull into a straight line the second he noticed me. His outgrown hair was tousled by the breeze, long strands framing his face handsomely as they brushed against his nape, some strands darker than the others.
“Mr. Song, fancy seeing you.” The Principal patted Yunho’s strong back with a proud smile, “I was just telling Mr. and Mrs. Byun how your little sister has been improving both academically and behaviour-wise too.”
“Oh,” Yunho’s pale cheeks flushed with colour as he slightly bowed, I could see my parents practically fawn over him. He was handsome, too handsome, everyone around here was in love with him whether they wanted to be or not, “I know my siblings give you a lot of headaches, but if it helps, you’ll have to deal with fewer of us after this year.”
The Principal laughed as he shook his head, “Between you and me, I’d rather have you and Mingi attend the Academy for five more years than your younger siblings, although Dahyun is a sweet girl despite being odd.”
Even if the comment wasn’t well received by Yunho, his left eye twitched slightly and his smile looked a bit forced all of a sudden, he just chuckled and bowed his head again, “They’ll mature with time, Mingi and I did too.”
“Indeed, that is true.” Then the Principal was suddenly facing me, and I noticed the way Yunho’s eyes slightly widened as if he actually hadn’t noticed me standing just a few feet away, “You’d be surprised to hear that Yunho was unstoppable as a child, we had to sedate him more than once during his runs. He also struggled to shift back until he became ten, isn’t that peculiar?”
Before Yunho could interject, however, my mother spoke up to my horror, “My daughter still struggles to shift, being an early bloomer is really straining.”
“I’m not an early bloomer, though.” Yunho’s tone was a bit harsher, but I bet nobody noticed but me as his eyes bore into mine, his face void of any emotion. I sighed and looked away, trying to push the image of his exposed collarbones due to his unbuttoned shirt out of my head. His cheeks seemed unnaturally pink, he must’ve used some blush before coming down for the bonfire.
“Sometimes when mates—”
“I think we should leave the younglings alone, no?” My father cut the Principal off with a charming smile as I looked at him, slightly taken aback. Nobody knew Yunho and I were supposed to be mates, not even Yunho, I hadn’t told a soul. I doubt my father knows, he must’ve misinterpreted Yunho and my exchange as I winced and he just cleared his throat, sounding uncomfortable. Then, without wasting another second, my father was rushing us towards the bonfire, my mother laughing at something the Principal said as I turned to look at my dad. He was smiling gently and winked when he caught my stare, making me question whether he truly was oblivious to whether I had already found my mate or not. Yunho and I marched towards the bonfire wordlessly, and I flinched when I felt his warm knuckles brush against the back of my hand, but almost as if it was a fragment of my imagination, Yunho was beelining it towards a log on which a girl I didn’t know sat, next to her Yeri with a bored expression on her face.
“Yunho!” The unknown girl called out, making grabby hands at him. I watched as Yunho grinned and sat next to her, leaning into her space as the girl instantly flushed. My stomach coiled as I averted my eyes towards the fire, feeling its warmth slowly seep into my bones, but my muscles didn’t ease up, they remained tense.
“Did you miss me, baby?” I tried not to whine as my wolf told me to pounce on the girl and drag her into the forest and show her what happens to those who touch Yunho, but I would’ve looked completely insane if I had done that. Yunho wasn’t done speaking, however, and I felt eyes on me which made my skin crawl, “I got held up, but I’m all yours now.”
I tried not to feel sick as I chanced a glance towards Yunho, who was looking at me with a smirk. I could feel tears threatening to appear in my eyes, I didn’t want to look pathetic, however, Yeri seemed to save me from the shame, “Dude, did you get me a beer?”
“Of course, I did.” Yunho chuckled, finally looking away from me, “Just don’t tell mom or Wooyoung.”
“I won’t, chill out.” Yeri scoffed as she opened her can of beer, grinning to herself in triumph, “My room is yours tonight, then.”
They shared a look and I released a shaky breath as I had decided that I needed a moment away from everything. I knew everyone could smell my spiked scent and hear my heart thudding in an uneven rhythm, I didn’t want them staring at me, so I quickly hurried inside the house and headed for the kitchen hoping it was deserted. Maybe I’d find that bottle of champagne San was talking about and help myself to it, I knew nobody would mind. The kitchen was dark when I stepped through the archway, so I quickly felt around the wall for the light switch and gasped when light flooded the kitchen. When I got too into my head, I completely missed other scents or heartbeats around me, otherwise the vampire girl wouldn’t have taken me off guard. She tilted her head and raised an amused eyebrow as she nibbled on a cherry.
“Did I scare you?” She asked, her tone still cold, “I thought werewolves have heightened senses too.”
“Uh, we do.” I muttered as I walked further inside the kitchen, “I was distracted.”
“Why is that?” The girl asked, looking curious as her expression slightly shifted.
“No reason.” I lied as I opened a cupboard and grabbed a tall glass.
“Are you drinking wine?” She looked surprised as I walked to the cupboard I knew the champagne was hidden in, “Can I have some too?”
I paused and considered her question for a second, then shrugged, “Sure, but it’s champagne.”
“Good, I like that more.” She smirked as she grabbed a tall glass too, then approached me. She was cold, she lacked the warmth werewolves emanated, but her scent was oddly not exactly hers. I studied her from my peripheral as I got on my tiptoes and grabbed the bottle of champagne. I had been around the Songs for long enough to know them by scent, and she very strongly reeked of Mingi. There was no further information needed to know they really were mated if only someone failed to notice her bite mark. The vampire girl said nothing as I opened the bottle of champagne, mindful of leaving some for San and Wooyoung as I poured the bubbly drink for the vampire before for myself. I could feel her eyes on me, studying me closely, and then she hummed, leaning her hip against the counter, “I might not be a werewolf, but you absolutely stink. Don’t get me wrong, all werewolves do besides Mingi, but your scent is very bothersome right now.”
I gulped, feeling my cheeks heating up as I placed the bottle of champagne back into the cupboard. Getting told that you stink certainly wasn’t very nice, but I knew firsthand that werewolves had distinctive scents, perhaps vampires weren’t too fond of it. Not that I knew much about vampires, there were few in Colourful River and they seemed to frolic more with the humans since they were their blood bags. Still, her comment only worsened my mood as I handed her one of the glasses, trying not to grimace.
“Sorry, I’ll try to keep it down next time,” I muttered over the rim of my glass, and then I took a bigger gulp than necessary. The vampire girl watched me with a raised eyebrow as she took a small sip, savouring the sweet taste unlike me. I didn’t like the amused glint in her eyes, it felt as if she was looking down on me, but I really wasn’t up for a confrontation right now.
“As much as I would love to insult you right now,” My eyes widened as the vampire girl sighed, “Over the past year I learned that when your scent turns sour, or just becomes really unbearable to me, it means that you’re upset. So, I didn’t mean to further upset you, I’m just not very good at understanding how werewolves function.”
I chuckled under my breath as my next words escaped before I could stop myself, “Funny you say that when you’re surrounded by werewolves only right now. Why do you even hang around us if you can’t stand us?”
Despite expecting harsh words as an answer to my jab, the vampire looked dejected as she leaned back into the counter, sighing loudly as she averted her eyes, “If it wasn’t for Mingi and I being—mates, then I certainly wouldn’t be here. When I was young, I had a really bad encounter with a rogue wolf and I have hated you all ever since, but I can’t deny the pull I feel towards Mingi, it’s weird, but it’s there. And when I had tried ignoring it, it had hurt the both of us, so I’m here now, trying to still embrace the fact that now I’m part of this pack that I’ve hated my whole life and of the family that’s been getting on my nerves ever since they moved to Nocturnal Parade.”
I hummed in surprise and took another sip of my drink, now suddenly understanding why the Song twins had reacted with disdain when I had brought up the Petrova family a year ago, I assume she and Mingi weren’t together yet then.
“It must’ve been hard accepting Mingi, then.” The girl’s cold exterior slowly melted away as she looked at me with surprise. I suppose she had been judged by many for her prejudices, but didn’t everyone have some? I couldn’t completely blame her for them, “Seeing a werewolf and a vampire together isn’t uncommon, but I haven’t heard of them being mated before. Do you mind if I ask how that happened?”
The vampire chuckled as she turned her head towards the window, gazing out as she took another sip of her champagne, “We were drunk and had sex. I, apparently, bit Mingi where his scent gland is and triggered his imprinting. It feels weird to think about it, that maybe we would’ve never ended up together otherwise, but I don’t think that’s true. I think I had always liked Mingi, my hatred had just gotten in the way of me realising my true feelings for him.”
I hummed, gaining a new perspective on their relationship. I have heard bits and pieces from Yeri, even Wooyoung sometimes, but Mingi’s younger sister was mostly speaking ill of the Petrova girl. Yeri didn’t like the vampire at all and never failed to go on angry rants about how much she wanted to rip Mingi’s mate apart, but she couldn’t because she’d been accepted by the family, so the vampire girl was now untouchable. Speaking to the vampire, however, wasn’t as awful as Yeri made me think it would be. She faced me again, her head tilted as she looked at me with a curious expression on her face.
“What’s your story? I don’t think we had spoken before, right?” She asked as I shook my head, plastering on a small smile.
“We moved here a year ago, the big city just wasn’t for us anymore.” I shrugged, then traced the edge of the counter with my finger as I averted my eyes from the vampire, “Nothing is interesting about me, I think I’m just a regular, boring, werewolf. I did make a friend, though, it’s Choi San, if you know him?”
“Of course, I do,” The vampire scoffed, rolling her eyes as if hearing my best friend’s name was irritating to her, “Wooyoung never shuts up about him, if I wouldn’t have known better, I’d suspect he’s in love with San.”
That caught my attention as I perked up, subconsciously leaning closer to the vampire. It felt as if she was wearing a patch of Mingi’s familiar scent, it was almost endearing if it wouldn’t have reminded me of the fact that I’d never have this with Yunho, “Really? You think Wooyoung is in love with San?”
The girl chuckled, looking at me with a smirk, “I wouldn’t want to assume such a thing, but you must know Wooyoung is very irritating, so he only settles down when I threaten to tell San he’s always gushing about him behind his back. That must mean something, no?”
I bit my lower lip, buzzing with excitement at the prospect of Wooyoung returning San’s feelings. However, I’d have to trade forward with this information very smartly, I didn’t want to ruin something that apparently had so much potential. I only wanted to see San happy with the person he loved with his whole might.
“I hope it means something,” I muttered into my glass as I took another sip, making the vampire girl’s eyes gain a mischievous glint. I hoped she wouldn’t say anything that would set back the two boys' relationship, but maybe I had finally gained an insider who could help me give tips to San to push their relationship a step forward.
“Interesting,” She mumbled as she took another sip as well, raising an eyebrow, “What about you, though? I know you’re rooming with Yeri, for which you have my condolences, but you’re connected to this family in more ways, right?”
I felt my palms sweat all of a sudden, “What do you mean?”
“I have sharp eyes, and very sensitive hearing. What’s between you and Yun—”
“Nothing, absolutely nothing.” I would’ve looked guilty even to a newcomer by how quick I was to shut down the vampire’s question and assumption, she hadn’t even fully spelled Yunho’s name yet. I gulped, feeling my heartbeat pick up, then I averted my eyes and hoped she would just drop the subject…but she didn’t.
“It’s not my place to say what I’m about to say next, but be careful.” My eyebrows furrowed as I dared take a peek at her from between my eyelashes, “The Song twins aren’t bad creatures, they really aren’t, but Yunho is…a jackass, simply put. He’s dated Seulgi, my friend, and things were really messy between them. I hear now he’s messing around with a girl who finished the Academy last year, I just don’t want to see you end up like Seulgi. You seem like a genuine werewolf, kind-hearted too, I would hate to see Yunho destroy it all. It’s not my place at all, I know, but maybe just let it be? Maybe it’s better if you’re not meant to be, you know?”
But we are meant to be, I wanted to say it, I wanted to snap at her, but she knew better. If she could see it, a complete outsider, then who was I to correct her? She had known Yunho for longer than me, she probably didn’t have any bad intentions by warning me, but it still hurt. I gulped and downed the last of my champagne, knowing that my scent had soured once again. I came here to escape everything that was Yunho, yet, he was the subject once again. I hated it, but I couldn’t do anything about it. As long as the both of us lived in this town, Yunho would somehow always be the subject, he was too popular and well-liked by the others.
“No, you’re right, I—” I paused when I realised I sounded shaky, “I don’t even like him, don’t worry. I know the type of guy he is, I won’t mingle with him. I’m glad you found Mingi, his scent is all over you, by the way.”
The vampire blushed all of a sudden, it surprised me, but I was glad I had successfully diverted the subject from Yunho. She had a fond look on her face as she tried to save herself with a loud scoff, downing her champagne quickly, “Mingi isn’t too possessive, but since I don’t have a scent as you guys do, he’s scenting me all the time. It was annoying at the beginning, but he wouldn’t stop, so, I just had to accept the fact that everyone would know I was with him now. It’s kind of endearing, but don’t let him know, please! His ego is already through the roof.”
I chuckled, wondering what she was talking about because Mingi was one of the nicest creatures I had ever met. We weren’t very close, but he always stopped to talk to me if we crossed paths in the hallways, and during the summer break, he’d even come over sometimes with baked goods, eager to discuss whatever book he’d lately read. I liked Mingi, he was nice to me and my family, sometimes perhaps too nice. Silence settled between the vampire girl and me, so I decided it was my time to excuse myself and join San and Wooyoung in the back garden once again. Surprisingly, I felt more at ease after speaking to the Petrova girl, I had always thought she was intimidating and too cold, but she was a lot nicer than I have been told. I cleared my throat and pointed towards the archway, an awkward smile making it onto my face.
“I’ll head back outside if you don’t mind.” But as I took off, she called out for me to stop.
“Wait,” The vampire cleared her throat and looked a bit embarrassed as she dug into her pocket, her lips pursed as she avoided making eye contact, “So, uhm, Dahyun forced me today to make some shitty bracelets with her and, honestly, I can’t give this shit to any of my friends, they aren’t werewolves.”
I quirked an eyebrow as she took her hand out of her pocket, then extended it towards me without meeting my eyes. Her palm opened and a simple, but pretty, brown leather bracelet sat in it. I chuckled, reaching for it with an amused smile. The bracelet was braided and it had a cute wood wolf charm, it looked like it was howling upon closer inspection. I was just about to make a playful comment about it when I noticed a very similar bracelet peeking out from underneath the sleeve of her blouse. The only difference was that the leather was a lighter brown than mine, so, I swallowed down my comment and instead looked at her with a big smile.
“Thank you!” It oddly felt like a friendship offer too, but I didn’t want to get too ahead of myself. Maybe she just genuinely didn’t want to give it to her other friends, maybe she was embarrassed to do so, “It’s really pretty.”
“Whatever,” The vampire grumbled as she lowered her hand, fidgeting with her bracelet absentmindedly, “That little animal forced me to—not that I’m calling Dahyun an animal, or other werewolves, I—well.”
I laughed quietly as I wore the bracelet, looking at it for a longer second before I grinned at the Petrova girl, “Don’t worry, I get what you’re saying. We are animals, after all, and since you’ve already brought that up, please be a little nicer to Yeri, I can’t keep listening to her whine about you.”
“I hate that brat.” The vampire scowled, but quickly caught herself, “I mean, sure, I’ll try to be nicer…sort of.”
I chuckled and raised my hand to wriggle my wrist, the wolf charm moving around, “Friends, maybe?”
The vampire seemed to think for a second before she smiled, a real smile that reached her sharp eyes too, “Yeah, friends.”
I felt rather happy as I left the kitchen, fulfilled even, that I had managed to befriend another creature, and this was the Petrova, well now Bae, heir on top of it all. It made me feel excited as I hurried out of the house, planning to tell San and even Wooyoung, but I almost collided with two creatures once out on the porch. The girl's giggles became quiet as my wide eyes stared up into Yunho’s equally surprised ones, but then, his grip tightened around the girl’s waist and he was suddenly manoeuvring themselves around me, a dark look crossing Yunho’s features. I gulped, my heart racing as I heard the girl mutter something about me to Yunho, and then both were laughing. It was fine, I was alright. Yunho was free to do however he pleased, he didn’t owe me anything, no explanations or promises. But my wolf howled inside my mind, a harsh ache suddenly hitting my insides, freezing me into my spot for a second as I gasped for air. I wondered if this exact feeling was the same as the vampire and Mingi had experienced when they tried ignoring their bond. If yes, it made me wonder how was I strong enough to still be going and acting as if Yunho wasn’t my mate, as if his ignorance wasn’t slowly killing me on the inside. All I wanted was to crumble to the ground and let the sobs wreck my body, but instead, I tried to clear my mind and find San’s scent to cosy up with him, burry my pain deep down, and revel in the safety my best friend had always offered me.
But as I finally reached my best friend, he was sitting by the bonfire with a very drunk Wooyoung stuck to his side, arms around San’s middle as his head was pressed into San’s collarbones. We made eye contact and San’s eyes were sparkling with elation and something else as he gestured with his head subtly at Wooyoung, so I knew I couldn’t bother them. I didn’t want to ruin their moment, I could basically smell just how happy, and drunk, San was. I would’ve been a terrible friend if I had walked up to them just to mop around without telling them the real reason for my displeasure, so I decided to just head home for the night. The champagne had left my blood buzzing, and even though I wasn’t tipsy, I knew how my night would end. I’d bury myself deep underneath my pillows and blanket and cry myself to sleep, letting out my wails since nobody would be able to hear me. My parents wouldn’t return for a few more hours, so I could just wallow in misery as loudly as I wanted to. But to leave, I had to grab my jacket first, which was in Wooyoung’s room courtesy to San who had thrown our jackets somewhere on his bed.
The house was silent as I made my way back inside, the kitchen dark once again, and since I couldn’t hear a second heartbeat, I knew the vampire girl had left, probably, to find Mingi. I realised I was fiddling with the wolf charm as I made my way up the stairs, my body covered in goosebumps for no reason. I had been inside this house multiple times, I knew where everything was, but for some reason, my intuition was telling me to turn around and just go home without my jacket. My wolf was basically whimpering in my mind, trying to convince me to turn around as I stepped off the last stair, ears picking up on a faint noise. The hallway wasn’t too narrow but it was long, and Wooyoung’s room was next to the upstairs bathroom, across from Yeri’s. The scents were so mingled up here that I couldn’t tell whether anyone was upstairs, so I just hoped I didn’t run into anyone because I wasn’t capable of conversing right now. I felt spent, upset, and heartbroken at the same time. I knew this would happen, I’d get ignored by Yunho once again, but it still stung each time it happened, I thought I had gotten used to it. Maybe I was reacting this badly because he had insulted me last night as well, and now his actions from tonight were also bugging me.
The faint noises got louder the closer I got to Wooyoung’s room, and with slight terror, I realised they sounded like hushed whispers and muffled moans. Glancing towards Yeri’s room, the door had been left slightly ajar, and despite dread filling my stomach, I found myself walking towards it, eyebrows furrowed once I picked up on a foreign citrusy scent. That, however, was the least of my worries as Yunho’s intoxicating sandalwood and vanilla scent carried through the air in intense pumps, twisting something in my lower stomach, and making my mouth go dry. It was so intoxicating that I found myself creeping towards the door, my breath baited and my hands slightly trembling as my wolf whined at me to barge inside and let Yunho have us, ravish us. But the small crack left by the door being ajar was enough for me to see inside the dim room, making my heart drop in seconds. The girl Yunho had been hanging out with all night was on her knees in front of Yunho as he sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands as his mouth hung open, eyebrows furrowed, and eyes squeezed shut as low moans left his swollen lips. I couldn’t pry my eyes away from Yunho’s face despite the sudden urge to cry as my wolf howled loudly, making my blood boil now that I knew for sure others could have Yunho like this. At a particularly high-pitched moan, Yunho’s eyes snapped open and found mine through the crack of the door, making me gasp loudly as I jumped back, feeling disgusted and full of rage at the same time. It wasn’t fair of Yunho to constantly push me away, whether he knew I was his mate or not, and it wasn’t fair that he could easily mess around with others while I was forced to suffer and watch him from afar. I didn’t stall any longer, I was out of the house before I could hear more of the sounds they were making, Yunho’s strong scent burning my throat even the next morning.
The Spring Break passed by in a frenzy, and I had barely gotten any rest while I was home for the week. Every invite to the Songs I had turned down, disgusted at the thought of facing Yunho after everything. I didn’t want to see him, I didn’t want to hear him, I didn’t want to smell him. I had made up my mind. If he didn’t want me, I wouldn’t want him either anymore. I have yearned enough after someone I’d never have, so, I decided what’s enough is enough. I knew the change wouldn’t happen overnight, especially when my wolf snarled at me anytime I pushed the thought of Yunho away, whining loudly whenever he came up in a conversation. My wolf wasn’t happy with my decision, but I was the one in control, and I was done being hurt all the time. I missed the serenity I once had before meeting Yunho and the rest of the Songs, but if finally living the life my parents had always wished for came with the price of finding an unrequited mate, then I could live with that for now. Perhaps if I went far enough from here then the bond would somehow finally completely break. I could only hope that was the case and I wouldn’t get somehow incurably sick, I’ve heard of it happening before, and it scared me.
Today had been a long day, I felt tired and my back muscles were aching from having been sitting all day long, my brain sore from having been paying close attention in my classes. My notebooks were filled with notes, there was not a second to rest now that we were back at the Academy. San and I had wandered on our own paths sometime during the afternoon, his classes different from mine, besides, I knew he liked working out before going for his run, where he’d most probably be joined by Wooyoung. He had texted me asking whether I wanted to join the two of them, but I had politely declined. San knew I liked being on my own, so he never pushed me if I wasn’t feeling up to it. I always enjoyed my runs more on the Academy grounds than back at home, because here the forest was large and I rarely ran into other wolves while being out there. At home, the boundaries were clearly fenced in, to keep us from wandering too far into the Haunted Woods and getting lost. Other creatures than us, more ferocious ones, lurked deep in the forest, and some of us from Nocturnal Parade had never returned once they ventured too far in.
I knew I couldn’t go back to the shed, especially not now, out of fear of running into Yunho. And as if the Universe was laughing at me today, the way my wolf started purring before the scent even hit my nose should’ve been a clear sign to turn around and go the other way towards the campus, on the backroads where not many liked walking. It was a good spot for the Fae to hide away and drink in nature’s powers, so most of us kept clear of it to offer them privacy. I knew they wouldn’t mind if I stumbled upon them, and I’d rather face their wrath than run into Yunho right now. As I rounded the corner, I stopped walking just in time to avoid crashing into Yunho’s larger body. He gasped and pressed a hand against his chest, gulping almost too loudly. I didn’t look at him as I averted my eyes, nor said anything despite my wolf trying to nudge me towards Yunho. I just tried to step around him and hurry towards the entrance. However, something very unexpected happened. Yunho’s low voice sounded unsure, almost, a little breathy as well.
“Are you headed for a run right now?” My body froze upon hearing Yunho’s question, and I tried to fight every particle of my body from stepping closer to him when his sandalwood scent called out to me. It was deeper, more earthy than ever before, and my wolf was purring so loudly it echoed in my ears as if it were real.
“Yes.” My answer was short, but before I could leave, Yunho followed up with another question.
“May I join you?” He sounded more confident this time, I could feel his eyes on me as my eyebrows furrowed.
What? I gulped, trying to keep my heartbeat even as his question echoed in my mind. Why now? Why did he want to join me on my run all of a sudden? Why was he even talking to me? Why was he acknowledging me? Without even realising it, I had started fiddling with the wolf charm of my bracelet, finding courage as I raised my head and looked into his chocolate brown eyes.
“No.” Yunho’s face became blank as he gulped again, his left eye slightly twitching, “I don’t like going on runs with others.”
Yunho was silent for another second as I raised my eyebrow at him, challengingly. What did he want? His tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he huffed, a cynical smile crossing his features, “I see.”
I hummed, fingers tightening around the charm as I was displeased with his reaction, but I didn’t say anything as I nodded once, stepping around him this time to resume my walk. But, once again, Yunho spoke up before I could leave.
“Have you done the assignment? For our Literature class.” Just what was he on? My eyebrows furrowed again as I looked at him confused, Yunho slightly turned his body to face mine since I was standing next to him.
“Yes, we were supposed to hand it in before the Spring Break.” I knew my tone was sharp as I deadpanned, but I couldn’t help myself. Yunho had never spoken to me like this before, let alone asked about a run or an assignment. If he stumbled into me on accident, he wouldn’t even apologise, so this whole interaction was bizarre, “Why? Have you not done yours?”
“I have.” Yunho’s eyes narrowed then, slowly trailing down my body until it stopped on my wrist. I shivered and hid my arm behind my back as if I had done something I wasn’t allowed to, my wolf whispered at me that I was wearing something that hadn’t always belonged to me, “Are you—did Mingi give you something of his?”
Once again, what? I huffed, closing my eyes for a second as I could feel irritation seep through my body. It wasn’t just my scent souring, Yunho’s sandalwood got replaced by the vanilla, which didn’t smell as sweet as usual, “No, why would he?”
But Yunho didn’t answer as his jaw tightened, his eyes switching between mine before they fell back down to my wrist as if he were trying to see through the sleeve of my jacket. His long hair was tousled, almost as if he had been running his fingers through it too often, and his cheeks were covered in a coral blush and littered with fake freckles. His nails were painted yellow this time and they matched the neon yellow of his bomber jacket, which seemed to hide a purple mesh shirt underneath. A blue tie hung loosely around his neck, and his jeans had daisies stamped on his thighs. He looked amazing, even if peculiar, he made my wolf purr in a dreamy way that had me move slightly towards him, hoping that he hadn’t noticed since he was still busy staring at my wrist, which I was still hiding behind my back.
“Are you lying to me right now?” Yunho’s tone had turned a tad bit aggressive, and suddenly, I found him all up in my face, closing the distance between us with an alarming speed. My heart skipped a beat and my wolf leered at Yunho’s actions, whispering sweet nothings into my ear, distracting me for a second from Yunho’s sudden, and unwarranted, fury.
“What is your problem, Yunho?” Despite craving to touch him and nuzzle into the crook of his neck, I pushed through the sudden lustful haze and made my anger apparent. That seemed to catch Yunho off guard as his expression fell a bit, his eyebrows furrowing as he gulped, opening his mouth before he closed it again, seemingly not knowing how to answer my question. I scoffed, gave him a fierce glare, and ignored my wolf’s whimpers when I stepped back. Then I turned around to storm towards the exit. Where was all that audacity coming from?!
It was a warm spring day, the sun had finally melted the last remnants of frostbite and dew, yet most students were cooped up in the Study Hall or Library, busy catching up with the projects and assignments they had procrastinated on so far. Perhaps going to the Library would’ve been a smarter choice since the cacophony of the grand room distracted me more than once from my coursework. Midterms were right around the corner and everyone was squeezing in study time even on the weekends, determined to memorise as much material as possible. Thankfully, I wasn’t behind in any of my classes but I still had to finish my Alchemy assignment, which was proving to be a headache. San was busy reading through his Anatomy notes and scribbling down even more information in his notebook as four different books were opened and strewn around him on the table. The sight made me chuckle, but I didn’t bother San as I knew he’d get anxious if he wasn’t able to finish checking all the materials he had proposed for himself to go over that day. He was quite literally a prodigy, yet he strived for even more perfection. I knew his whole future depended on his grades, but San was too smart for his own good…academically, at least.
As I jotted down another sentence about my failed experiment just from last night, Yeri’s chewing gum snapped loudly, making San flinch. He was so focused he didn’t even look up, but his eyebrows slightly furrowed. I peeked at Yeri from above my laptop and raised an eyebrow at her when I realised, she had been staring at me already. She sighed as she placed her chin in her palm, grimacing as the chewing gum had stuck to the corner of her lips. I chuckled as she quickly got rid of it, and cleared her throat.
“Do you think you’ll pass your Alchemy class this semester?” Yeri’s tone was deadpan, and it almost made me laugh. Maybe I should’ve gone to the Library where we weren’t allowed to speak much to each other, maybe then Yeri would’ve spared me from her brutally honest questions.
“I sure hope so,” I muttered as I searched for the right formula on the internet, which was much faster than flipping through old pages of books, trying to find the answer for my magick elixir.
“Will you have to retake your class if you fail?” Yeri pressed, genuinely interested all of a sudden.
“No, it would be the first time I failed this class, I’d just retake the final exam,” I explained as San hummed next to me, highlighting something with green in the book he had borrowed from the Library. I was sure he’d get a good scrutinising from the librarian for that.
“How many passes do I get before they fail me? Like the exams and shit.”
“Which class are you failing, Yeri?” San spoke up with an amused tone as he sneaked a glance at her. I chuckled as I found the formula, then copied it into my notebook before putting it into my slideshow.
“Don’t tell my brothers,” Yeri lowered her voice as she leaned over the table to be closer to San and me, “But I might be failing Literature this year.”
“Literature of all subjects?” San started laughing, prompting me to giggle as well. It was one of our easiest classes, trust Yeri to fail it. It seemed like the Songs were easily tricked by the easiest of tasks, Wooyoung was another prime example of that. He failed his Sports class last year, which should’ve physically been impossible for a werewolf…even all of the vampires had passed it.
“Stop making fun of me,” Yeri pouted as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, “Not everyone likes to read—I certainly don’t.”
“Well, you should from now on, or you’ll have to retake the whole class next year.” Yeri’s eyes widened at my inoffensive threat.
“Whatever,” She grumbled under her breath as her ears perked up, eyes looking around the room. San’s body seemed to tense too for a second before he relaxed, his ears tinged slightly red, “Don’t wait for me to come back to our room tonight.”
“Where are you going?” I felt like an older sister worrying about their younger sibling as my eyebrows furrowed. Yeri just rolled her eyes with a loud huff, eyes fixed on something behind me as she started smiling.
“I’m sleeping in Seungwannie’s room tonight.” I could hear footsteps approaching us rapidly.
“What about her roommate?” I asked as a familiar citrusy scent caught my attention, I didn’t have to turn around to know who was coming.
“She’ll be fine, we like her.” I chuckled as Yeri winked, and then her eyes settled on San, or rather who stood now next to him. Before any of us could react, Wooyoung leaned down and pressed a fat kiss against San’s cheek, unleashing a heavy thundering of heartbeats. I ignored San’s heartbeats as I smiled at Wooyoung, who looked embarrassed by his actions, but he was grinning sheepishly as he lowered his head.
“Hi!” He greeted us as San finally snapped out of his frozen state, giving Wooyoung a genuinely wide smile.
“Hello, Woo,” I said as the younger pulled out a chair and sat in it, dismissing Yeri when she stuck her tongue out at her brother. Wooyoung rested his chin in his palm, head tilted as he looked at San.
“Are you still studying?” Wooyoung’s tone was impatient as San’s sigh was exasperated. I chuckled under my breath and went back to my slide show, looking over it for the nth time, “I’m so bored, San, you promised to come back to my room with me and entertain me.”
“Oh, did you now, San?” Yeri grinned mischievously as she giggled, making Wooyoung’s eyes widen as he shot her an alarmed look. I watched the exchange wordlessly as San’s ears flushed a darker shade while he tried to make his body look even smaller as his wide shoulders hunched forward, “Does that form of entertainment involve—”
“Song Yeri.” Mingi’s tone was authoritative as Yeri’s eyes widened, lips pressing into a straight line. How have I missed them approaching? Yunho was directly looking at me, his soft and chocolate brown eyes drilling into my forehead as I quickly looked away, once again busy with my PowerPoint presentation, “Leave your brother and San alone, must you always be such a menace?”
“If they are idiots…” Yeri grumbled under her breath, and I watched curiously as both San and Wooyoung looked away, blushing and their hearts skipping a beat. I suppose it won’t take them much longer to finally come to terms that they like each other, Wooyoung’s been rather reactive lately around San, it was certainly fun to watch. What wasn’t fun at all, however, was Yunho’s unrelenting stare and his scrunched nose as he sniffed at the air.
“Hello, Y/N.” I didn’t expect the vampire girl to speak to me, she even had a smile on her face as my round eyes fell on her. It was a small smile, but it was there. I watched the people around us turn around surprised as they looked between me and the Petrova girl. I smiled and waved at her, the small wolf charm swishing around on my wrist. I didn’t miss Yunho’s eyes instantly falling onto it, nor the vampire girl’s satisfied smirk when Yeri scowled at her, “Are these rascals bothering you?”
“Oh, not at all.” I chuckled, looking at San and Wooyoung as Yeri scoffed, but everyone just ignored her.
“Well, if you ever get bored of them, you can always join me and my friends.” The vampire girl’s eyes fell pointedly on Yeri and Wooyoung as Mingi’s grip tightened on her waist, “I know some creatures forget they cohabit a place with others whom they are constantly bothering and irritating.”
“Oh, shove something up your—”
“Alright!” Mingi chuckled, jumping in to de-escalate the situation, as always, “Before this turns into another argument, my lovely girlfriend and I will be on our way.”
The Petrova girl winked at Yeri as she kissed Mingi’s cheek, and then the two turned and were off to a table where three creatures sat, all smiling at them except for one. She had long black hair, bangs that fell into her eyes, and a fierce glare as she stared at Yunho, then at me once she realised, I was looking at her.
“Won’t you sit?” Wooyoung gestured towards the empty seat next to Yeri, and that seemed to snap Yunho out of whatever train of thought he seemed to be lost in. I chanced a glance at him before I went back to check for typos in my presentation, trying to ignore Yunho’s vanilla scent spiking all of a sudden, so sweet it almost made me gasp. The last time it had been that sweet was when I caught him and that girl at the bonfire enjoying each other. I gulped and willed my wolf to remain silent as suddenly it took me everything to remain seated and not throw myself at Yunho, God, I so desperately wished to touch him and inhale him whole, but once again I had to remind myself that I had made a choice. No more Yunho, no more yearning, it was over. I deserved better, I could do better than this.
“No, see you around.” Yunho’s voice was strained as he quickly walked off, sitting alone at a large and almost empty table.
“That was strange,” Wooyoung mumbled as Yeri hummed, turning around to stare at her brother with a frown.
“He’s been acting strange ever since Y/N came to town,” I froze as Yeri faced me again, lips pursed, “Not that I’m blaming you for my brother’s behaviour, I just don’t understand what’s up with him. His scent gets stronger around you and he’s always moodier and snappier after he sees you, did you do something to him?”
I scoffed, rolling my eyes too as I closed my laptop, “Right, as if your brother had given me the chance to do something to him.”
Before anyone could question me, I stood and stormed towards the large bookcases lined closely to the exit, my muscles tense. Now that I had decided that I wanted nothing more to do with Yunho, my wolf had turned even more stubborn than it had been. I wanted to consume him, I wanted him to touch me and feel me up, it felt like I couldn’t think or breathe in his presence. And when he wasn’t around, my wolf whined and cried, begging me to find him and make him want us. But my will was stronger and I was determined to stay away even if it became harder and harder daily to go against my wolf. I wondered if Yunho felt the same way, if the thoughts of me were eating him up alive, if he was desperate to have me, if his wolf whined at him just like mine did. I sighed and closed my eyes, trying to ground myself into the present and push away all thoughts of the mate who didn’t want me back. I would’ve been struggling more half a year ago, but now it was second nature yearning after Yunho one second, then blocking him out the next one.
I still needed one more book for my presentation, the one that I could document myself from more in-depth as to why my experiment had failed…and I also shouldn’t forget to cut the sound for the recording since Yeri is giggling and making fun of me in the background for almost ruining my desk. My fingers traced the sturdy shelf of the bookcase as I craned my neck back, reading the titles of the books, wondering whether I was in the right section. I was tall, but these bookcases were over two meters, so I might need a ladder if I find my book and it’s way too high up on the shelf. As I scanned the next aisle, I grinned in triumph when I read the title of the book I was searching for, Do’s and Don’ts in Elixir Making, Alchemy, Level: kindergarten, by A. Turner. I chuckled under my breath at the blatant jab before I pushed myself up on my tiptoes, reaching forward and finding stability in the bookshelf when a sudden invasive warmth burned my nape, the scent of sandalwood forcing my eyes shut as I took a deep breath, my wolf purring when the sweet vanilla seemed to linger in my throat and oesophagus even after exhaling.
“Is this the one you were looking for?” Yunho’s voice was low, too close to my ear, and I couldn’t stop my heart from jolting in both fright and excitement. I whirled around, which was a mistake. There was barely any distance between our bodies as Yunho held the book in his big hand, long fingers curling around its old spine, his eyes soft, but his expression hardened. I gulped since my mouth felt dry, but the words didn’t come to me as Yunho and I stood staring at each other. His grip tightened around the book and I finally looked at it, nodding hesitantly. He hummed and handed it over, our fingers brushing in the process and making my body lurch forward. Yunho’s eyes widened, and I wondered if he had felt it too. The electricity, the low humming, the sudden tremble of my body at the fleeting touch, the depravation and desperation that was suddenly flowing through my veins, so close to claiming him as mine.
“Yes.” My voice was steady despite my hammering heart, and the sweat that coated my brows. I cradled the book against my chest as if I was trying to protect myself from Yunho, protect my heart and mind too. But Yunho didn’t look like he was about to move away, and I was too scared of making any moves, knowing that my legs would carry me straight in his arms, shamelessly at that. I couldn’t let that happen, it would’ve been humiliating. Yunho’s lips parted as his eyebrows furrowed, long strands falling into his eyes, and he swiftly ran a hand through his hair as my eyes followed the motion. I gulped, wishing to do the same, but then Yunho exhaled and I felt my body lean towards him again, vanilla so sweet my mind was clouded with want.
“Mingi’s girlfriend told me she had given you the sparse bracelet she and Dahyun had made.” I hadn’t expected that, so I was curious where Yunho was going with this, “She reeks of Mingi, so it’s no surprise your bracelet also reeks of Mingi.”
My eyebrows furrowed as I raised my hand, staring at it incredulously. Does it? I hadn’t even noticed, how come? After all, Mingi’s scent had never been as invasive and constant as Yunho’s. Bringing my wrist closer to my nose, I sniffed at it for a second, eyebrows furrowing when I noticed the faint hint of the earthy and cinnamon scent that was Mingi. It was barely even there, I wondered why Yunho was so sensitive towards it.
“Oh, well, I can faintly smell it now that you’ve pointed it out,” I muttered with a shrug as I lowered my arm, looking at Yunho with a questioning gaze. He bit his bottom lip and my eyes stayed there, wondering what the pink plush flesh would feel like underneath my teeth, whether Yunho would whine or growl if I were to sink my fangs into it and nip at the sensitive lip. But before my face could flush at the vivid image created in my mind, Yunho cleared his throat and took a small step towards me, making me press myself up against the bookcase. My body felt alive, my heart was racing, and my ears were ringing. I felt like I could do anything with Yunho around, as if I was untouchable.
“Listen,” Yunho seemed to hesitate for a second before his eyes glazed over with conviction, his scent so overbearing that for a second it was all I could focus on, and his racing heart, “I had never meant to assume things about you, nor insinuate anything, but I realise my words had come off wrong more than once. I was harsh when I didn’t mean to be, and I know you think I’m a dick. Frankly, you have all the right to think that about me, I hadn’t been the nicest to you until now.”
I wanted to ask why now, what had changed that he was finally acknowledging me, what was spurring him on to even talk to me like this, because it sounded like he was about to apologise and I hated how my heart was beating harder, making my wolf was howl in happiness, ready to accept Yunho’s apology even if he didn’t say the words. I remained silent as Yunho licked his pouty lips, and my eyes seemed to remain on them even as he continued to speak, “Do you���do you believe in soulmates?”
I couldn’t help but give Yunho an amused look, quirking an eyebrow, “We’re literally werewolves who imprint on each other and have lifelong mates, do you believe in soulmates?”
Yunho froze, a little taken aback that I had answered his question with a question, “What about mates? Do you believe in mates, then?”
It seemed like neither one of us wanted to answer questions right now, but I sighed as I gave Yunho a resigned look, “I do, I believe in mates.”
“Since when?” Yunho’s tone was turning slightly desperate as he kept pressing on, and I cleared my throat, averting my eyes for a bit.
“Since I was little, but I suppose I started firmly believing that mates do exist after I came here.” Maybe if I didn’t say it too directly, he’d still understand what I was trying to hint at.
“Yeah?” Yunho’s tone was faint, his face suddenly softening as he exhaled quietly.
“What about you? I don’t think I’ve seen you settle with anyone for a longer period since I came here.” Yunho’s jaw clenched as I looked back into his eyes, tilting my head as my eyes narrowed at him.
“The concept of mates was silly to me…” Yunho’s tone was hard as he took a step back, making my wolf whine in protest, but I remained silent and ignored the sudden coldness that plunged through my body, “Until you came to Nocturnal Parade.”
My whole body went cold upon hearing his words, and my eyes widened as Yunho’s admission echoed in my ears. Did that mean he knew we were mates? Could that mean that Yunho was aware that we were fated, but he was ignoring it on purpose? That was utterly more painful than being in a one-sided mated situation, because it meant he was purposefully rejecting me. My eyebrows furrowed as Yunho’s expression was blank once again, his eyes hardening the longer I stared at him in silence.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I felt like I couldn’t breathe, so many questions whirling in my head, making me question every little interaction that we’ve had in the past year, even more so the recent ones. Why would he ignore me? Was I not good enough? Was I not pretty to him? Was I not appealing to his wolf? Why did Yunho hate me so much that he ignored the fact that we were mates for a whole year, making it so hard for me to be in his vicinity? I blinked, suddenly aware that I had tears in my eyes, even my wolf was whining at the realisation. Yunho didn’t say anything as he watched my shocked expression morph into something of sadness mixed with anger, and then I squared my shoulders and glared at him. I didn’t say anything as I pressed the book against his chest to push him back, trying to keep it together in front of him despite wanting to scream at him, demand answers, and throw all the books from the shelves at him. Yunho looked taken off guard as I pushed him back by his chest, his gasp loud as I ripped the book away from his chest and stormed back to the table I shared with San and the Song siblings, my blood fuming and my thoughts running a mile per hour. Yunho was horrible and he didn’t deserve me, even if we were mates. As I loudly and aggressively sat back down in my chair, heads turned to look at me curiously, but nobody bothered me when San shook his head once he noticed Wooyoung open his mouth to drill me with questions.
There was one insistent pair of eyes, however, that didn’t look away even after I had given them a death glare, and it was the creature who was sitting with Mingi and the Petrova girl. Her eyes tracked Yunho as he hurriedly gathered his things from the table and left the hall, a scowl settling on her face before she was watching me again. I opened my book and opted to ignore her, I didn’t have time for all this drama, I had to finish an assignment and study for the midterms as well.
The next day wasn’t much different, except that there were barely any empty seats to find in both the Library and the Study Hall. After San and I had squeezed ourselves in between a Fae and a Druid, we spent four hours in the Library, our backs aching by the time we headed for lunch. My brain felt numb and my eyes ached from dehydration, and if I thought San would stop his revision while we enjoyed our meal, I was wrong. He was reciting a whole paragraph as he mumbled to himself over a mouthful of vegetable soup, scooping up the baby carrots into his spoon and placing them in my bowl absentmindedly. I smiled at his antics and found myself feeling fond of San and our friendship. Even though I have been here for a year and three months now, I got to experience so many new things and emotions. It was as if I was born for the first time, eager to experience our world through new lenses. If I thought back to my whole life spent in the big city, I couldn’t help but feel sad over how much I had missed out on. The community, however, in Nocturnal Parade had a way of filling in the gaps, and the absence of fond and good memories in a way that tricked my brain into believing that I was always part of this town, of this community, of this pack. It was exhilarating, and for the first time in months, I found myself craving partnership.
So, when San finally started complaining about physically being unable to revise and learn anymore, his muscles crying out for a good stretch, I proposed we go on a run together. It took San only a few seconds to realise what I saying, and then he sprung up from his seat with newfound energy, packing all of his belongings in mere minutes. I giggled as I followed suit, my backpack almost falling from my hands when San grabbed my biceps and hurled me after himself with little care that I was struggling to keep my feet from tangling together as we basically ran out of the Library. I ended up giggling as San faced me with sparkling eyes, his mouth wide but curling into a dimpled smile.
“I’ve been waiting for this day since forever!” San exclaimed as we hurried down the hallway for no reason, but San’s excitement was so palpable that I could almost touch it. It would be the second time I’d join San on his run, so I understood why this felt like a life-changing event to him. I chuckled and linked our arms together to try and slow San down, calm him down a little bit, “Which deity must I thank that you chose me as your companion for a run?”
I rolled my eyes and turned my head to watch San as I released his arm to let him hop down the stairs, “It’s warm outside and I can’t study anymore, I feel tired. I thought you also needed a second away from it all.”
“I sure do,” San muttered under his breath as he waited at the foot of the stairs for me to reach him, “All this studying just for me to not know which major I actually want, we’re four months away from graduating from the Academy, Y/N.”
I hummed and linked our arms together again as I veered us towards the backroads leading to campus, “I know, but you’ve got this San. Whether you choose Medical Engineering or Medicine and Pharmacy, you’ll do well, I just know it.”
“I want to do so much, but I feel like we have so little time,” San mumbled, his lips downturned as we left the building.
“We might not be vampires, but we certainly have more than enough time to live a lifetime full of completing our wishes and wants, don’t you think?” I tried to cheer my best friend up as I nudged his shoulder, but San just sighed long and stopped walking. His scent suddenly soured, and I frowned as he shuffled on his feet, keeping his eyes on the ground.
“I’m just…” He sighed and I hummed, spurring him on to continue, “What if Wooyoung doesn’t like me the way I like him?”
That was a tough question, I would hate myself if I answered it the wrong way and only saddened San more. I gulped and grabbed his shoulders, shaking him lightly, “San, do you not see the way Wooyoung just gravitates towards you? His eyes glimmer when he looks at you, he’s always smiling and laughing in your presence, and he’s always whiney when you don’t pay attention to him. He searches for you in every room, and he’s always talking about you, somehow roping you up into a conversation that has nothing to do with you. I know baring our feelings is scary, but what if…what if Wooyoung likes you the way you like him, and you’re just both wasting time? And if he somehow isn’t into you, it’s Wooyoung, you know nothing will change. He’ll treat you the same way, San. You might be heartbroken but life goes on, and you’ll find someone who is…not Wooyoung.”
“Wow,” San chuckled, biting his bottom lip to stop himself from laughing, “You really were doing so well until you brought up Wooyoung not being into me.”
“I’m sorry!” I exclaimed, feeling bad only for a second as San started laughing. I huffed as he threw an arm over my shoulders and pulled me into his side, a light flush settling over his cheeks. He was still smiling and his scent had evened out, so I knew he wasn’t upset anymore. Maybe my speech was good, after all, even if I ruined it by insinuating Wooyoung might not be into San.
“You’re right, Y/N,” San and I started walking again, “I won’t waste any more time. I’ll tell him before the next full moon.”
My eyes widened as I looked at San’s side profile, “That’s in five days.”
“I know.” San and I shared a look before I hummed, grabbing him around the hips to give him a reassuring squeeze. He smiled in contentment as we wobbled our way through the grass-covered path, thankful that we didn’t come across any Fae that was drinking up the warm sun rays as they lay in the grass.
And, well, that’s how I ended up on a run not just with San, but Wooyoung also. It didn’t bother me, it turned out that Wooyoung was a lot more coordinated and serious when in wolf form than he was in his human shape. His wolf wasn’t too large, but it had great stamina as it ran ahead of San and me, its fur a mixture of black and white, reminding me of his brothers, who both had beautiful fur and majestic builds. At first glance, it seemed as if Wooyoung was aimlessly leading us around the forest, but I was proven wrong when we arrived at a small waterfall, of which I had no idea it even existed. My wolf purred as it shook its fur, looking around with sharp eyes, making me chuckle inside my head when I noticed San headed towards Wooyoung, rubbing their muzzles together. My wolf howled, making me feel embarrassed when both San and Wooyoung looked my way, the amused glint in Wooyoung’s wolf eyes unmistakable even like this. When I was in my wolf form, it was hard to control its reactions, so I was forced to wallow in the embarrassment of the jealousy my wolf felt over what San and Wooyoung had. Even to my wolf, it was obvious that the two’s bond ran deep, that there was something they wouldn’t be able to deny for much longer.
As if San’s wolf had sensed my shift in mood, he approached with strong footsteps, rising a little taller than my own wolf. He was nowhere near as large as Yunho or Mingi, but the wolf was still big and menacing looking. The darkness of its eyes was intimidating to anyone who didn’t know it was San. The sourness of my scent, however, disappeared the second San affectionately brushed its body against mine, huffing under his breath as our heads bumped together in an acknowledging way. It was sweet, it tempered my wolf’s antics if only for a second as we heard the bushes rustling, the steps sounding closer and closer. My skin twitched as I bared my fangs for any unwelcome predator, but even my wolf was shocked to see a black and white wolf emerge from behind a large boulder. It was hard to think straight when your wolf was in control of your body and mind, and I had to pull every part of my mind together to stop my wolf from pouncing on Yunho the second they made eye contact. Something deep rumbled out of the black wolf’s throat as Wooyoung skipped over gleefully, its mouth opened as it made a funny sound.
Mingi imitated the sound as they bopped their noses together, a rumble leaving San’s throat as he stood next to me, protectively, as he watched Yunho’s wolf. A very quiet whine managed to somehow slip past my clenched jaw still when Yunho and Wooyoung acknowledged each other, and the second I realised my wolf would actually throw itself at Yunho, I somehow gathered enough mental strength to force myself to jump away from the group, a loud howl leaving my throat. I knew everyone was watching me, but I was panting and my wolf was purring, I knew I had to leave before I created an even bigger scene. So, when I took off, hopeful that the others would let me be, my wolf almost leered at me when Yunho’s vanilla scent permeated every part of my being, its burning gaze on my body making me choke up as I could see the big, black, wolf chase after me. Everyone else wasn’t far behind, but Yunho seemed to run faster than any of them, forcing me to push myself as my paws hit the forest ground harshly, my lungs heaving for air as we waved through the trees, racing through the forest.
Yunho’s loud puffs of air would’ve covered my skin in goosebumps, a constant reminder of just how close he was to me, to catching me. Because it felt like a chase, as if I was running away from a dangerous predator, and would end up dead, my windpipe crushed between its malicious fangs. My heart raced in my chest and my lungs burned from the lack of air, but my wolf wasn’t tired yet. In fact, it was elated that Yunho was relentlessly chasing, loud huffs and growls leaving its mouth anytime he thought he had finally caught up to us, only to realise my wolf was just tricking him and would speed up once again. My wolf was thrilled as it howled loudly, it would’ve sounded like laughter if I was in my human form, and then it took a sharp left cut as we jumped over numerous fallen logs. My skin was on fire as adrenaline coursed through my body at an alarming state, and I couldn’t remember a time when I had been so in touch with my wolf and the nature that surrounded us. I couldn’t lie, I was excited as well as I listened closely to Yunho’s heavy breaths, still hot on our trail even though he couldn’t quite catch up with us.
I couldn’t tell whether the others were still after us because Yunho’s scent was so intense that it was the only thing my wolf could smell and focus on, but I hoped the others would forgive me for my sudden departure once I had apologised to them. I just hoped San wouldn’t worry about me, but then again, it’s not like I couldn’t take care of myself, and right now it didn’t feel like I was in danger despite Yunho breathing down our neck. Before I could question where my wolf was taking us, the trees became less dense and the soil a little muddier, and I realised we were headed towards the shed. I suppose my muscles had eased up enough for me to end my run, but I wouldn’t want to come to the shed since this isn’t where I had left my clothes, I felt confusion spike through my senses, but my wolf was quick to completely push it down. My bones started aching as I gasped loudly for air, the shed now in eyesight as I realised my wolf was forcing me to shift. I didn’t want to be naked out in the wild, but I couldn’t stop the transformation if my wolf forced it upon me. I groaned when my bones snapped into place, the burgundy fur slowly disappearing as I was forced up onto my legs, my claws slowly retracting into normal nails as my jaw snapped into place, a little sore from the sudden action.
I could feel my hair brush just above my shoulders and I gasped as I tumbled forward into the shed’s door, my feet aching and numb from having pushed myself too hard in the chase. My body felt on fire as my heart raced loudly in my chest, the adrenaline making me more alert than normal as I hurried inside the shed, trying to shift back so that I wouldn’t have to walk to campus naked, but my wolf was opposed to the idea. Before I could wonder why, all my questions were answered. The shed’s door slammed shut loudly behind me and I jumped, whirling around in panic as Yunho’s tall form stood looming in the doorway. There was something different about him right now, about the air between us. It was tense, I felt like I couldn’t breathe in the dim lighting of the shed, and I gulped as I took in Yunho’s appearance. His long brown hair was all over the place, falling into his dark eyes, which lacked their warmth. They were narrowed into slits as he was panting through his mouth, his cheeks tinged a deep red, the flush continuing down to his chest. His fangs hadn’t retracted yet, though, and they were poking past his pink bottom lip. Yunho’s nose was scrunched up as he leered at me, and I gulped nervously, all of a sudden too aware of my nakedness as I tried to shield my exposed private parts with my hand and arm.
Something prompted Yunho to suddenly push forward, consequently making me backtrack until I collided with the old wooden table, making my heart race even faster as Yunho slowly stalked towards me, his eyes an intense orchid colour. I felt shy all of a sudden as if we hadn’t already seen each other naked, but my wolf purred at me and forced my hands away from my body as I felt frozen in place, big eyes looking up at Yunho once he stood too close, too easy to reach. His heart was pounding just as hard as mine as his chest fell and rose rapidly, and my eyes fluttered shut when his vanilla scent made my head swim. It felt as if I was underwater, trying to grip onto my last string of sanity as Yunho growled, hot fingers digging into my hip. My eyes flew open, widening as I looked down at Yunho’s hand holding me, leaving crescent moons as his chapped yellow nails dug into my warm skin. He stepped even closer, caging me in, and making me look up at him as I felt hazy. My wolf was whispering at me to spread my legs just a little further and let him nestle in between them. I wanted Yunho like nothing else before.
“Y/N.” Yunho’s voice was the lowest I have ever heard it be. His eyes seemed to be unfocused as he grabbed me with both hands now, slowly tracing my sides as if he were memorising my body. I had to bite my bottom lip to stop any sounds from escaping, and in a moment of weakness, I allowed my wolf to do to its liking as I raised my right hand, fingers almost hesitantly touching Yunho’s left peck. He shivered as his jaw tightened, stepping even closer until our bodies were touching. It was too much to feel all of him against my skin, his body burning mine up in a way I thought wasn’t possible. My breath stuttered in my throat when Yunho’s fingers ghosted over my breasts, mine travelling lower on his torso until they were massaging circles right above his happy trail, making him growl, “I can’t do it anymore.”
It was hard to speak, but I needed to understand what he meant. I swallowed around nothing, letting my head fall back as Yunho’s pupils dilated upon seeing my exposed neck, “What—what do you mean?”
Without realising, my hands were tracing his lower back, slipping lower and lower until they hovered right above his ass cheeks, hesitant to touch until Yunho roughly grabbed my left breast, rutting against my thigh. I keened, pressing him closer as my fingers dug into his naked flesh, my skin practically singing as he tilted my head even further back with his free hand, his index finger pressing against my bottom lip insistently. I couldn’t breathe as the wooden edge of the table dug into my back, but I didn’t care as my body experienced things it never had before. It was exhilarating, but also scary that I had given in so quickly. I knew it was mostly my wolf doing this, but I couldn’t find my grip. I actually didn’t want to, so I let my wolf take the lead for once when it came to Yunho. It’s what we’ve wanted for a year, after all, to feel him all over us, close to us, in us.
“You’re so alluring,” Yunho whispered as his head lowered, his hot lips pressing against my cheek as I flushed a darker red, “Maddening to the point I can’t sleep at night, Y/N. I want to devour you whole, take you as you are. I need you.”
I whimpered as Yunho and I made eye contact, his hand which was holding my breast now sneaking to my lower back as he made me arch into him, my lower stomach coiling at how easy it would be to just let him take whatever he needed. And I wanted it too, my wolf was desperate for it, so I leaned up until our lips were brushing together, my own orchid eyes reflected in his.
“Why now?” I whispered, watching as Yunho gulped, lips parting as if he was trying to inhale my very breath, “Why do you want me now?”
I gasped when Yunho suddenly hoisted me up, my legs crushing his hips as I latched onto him, my eyes shaking slightly as he nipped at my jawline, his fangs dangerous but not there to harm, “It’s not just now, I always want you. Even when I’m sleeping, you’re in my every dream.”
My eyes fluttered close as Yunho kissed behind my ear, making me sigh in pleasure as he trailed more kisses on my neck until he was dangerously close to my scent gland, “But you’ve always ignored me, I thought you didn’t like me.”
Yunho growled as he nipped at my skin, making me lick my lips as we came eye to eye once again. I wanted to kiss him breathless, but he was talking before I could do so, “I don’t like you, I’m obsessed with you. I want you to be mine, forever. I had known you belonged to me the second I first saw you.”
My wolf purred and I moaned as he pressed open-mouthed kisses against my neck, up to my jawline until our cheeks were pressed together, and he was nuzzling his nose into it, his sandalwood scent rubbing deeply into my skin. Our noses bumped together and my wolf was leering, so happy that we were in Yunho’s arms, so lenient to let him mark us, mate us. And just like that, my heartbeat stuttered and my eyebrows furrowed, somehow my mind clearing through the lustful fog that was clouding it, “Since the second you first saw me?”
“Yes,” Yunho muttered lowly, kissing my cheek before he looked into my eyes, “I had smelled you before I had even seen you, I thought I was going crazy, turns out I wasn’t. I had just found my mate.”
Before my wolf could let me gloss over this new piece of information, I pressed, “So you knew all this time that we were mates? That I was fated to be with you?”
“Yes, Y/N, I knew.” The grin on Yunho’s face was anything but pleasant as my heart dropped all the way to my stomach. He knew all this time and he left me in the dark to suffer alone, cry myself to sleep thinking I wasn’t good enough, that even my own mate didn’t want anything to do with me. I had thought all this time that I was too weird, too much, too shy to be fated with someone like Yunho, I had thought it was a cruel joke made by the Universe to laugh at me, I couldn’t have a peaceful and perfect life even if we left the city. I had been suffering for the past year and all this time Yunho knew, and yet, he did it on purpose. He didn’t care for me, he didn’t think for a second what this did to my mental health and image of myself. He was my mate, yet instead of protecting me, making me happy, and keeping me safe, he pushed me towards my darkest times where I felt like I wasn’t even real, that I didn’t matter to anyone, that I’d never be enough.
“Put me down.” My tone was just as shaky as my whole mental state right now, crumbling faster than my wolf could grasp the situation and try to silence me again. Yunho’s eyes widened slightly, then his eyebrows furrowed, and instead of doing what I asked, he only held me tighter, “Yunho, put me down right now.”
“Y/N, I don’t—listen, we can discuss this. I messed up, if you listen to the whole—”
“If you don’t put me down right now, Yunho, you’ll never see me again.” My wolf was whining as Yunho’s expression crumbled into hurt and panic, his chest falling and rising rapidly as I could hear his heart race for different reasons now. But I wouldn’t let this go his way, I couldn’t just gloss over this and act as if I hadn’t been miserable since the moment I met him. It hurt too much, even my wolf was finally realising what was happening, that he had actively refused his mate for whatever reason I wasn’t curious to know. And even though I could see it in Yunho’s eyes, the need to go against my demand and keep me here, very slowly, he started to move, letting one leg down at a time. My feet were cold as they touched the shed’s flooring, and I gulped as Yunho still hounded me into the table. I tried to keep the tears out of my eyes as I gulped, taking a shaky breath. Then, I pushed him back since he wasn’t moving away, and closed my eyes as I felt my bones shift around without me having to force my wolf to cooperate. So much for running with your pack.
The tables have somehow turned. It wasn’t me yearning after Yunho anymore, it was him yearning after me now. He was everywhere I went, albeit the Academy’s grounds weren’t as humongous as a town’s grounds, but he was everywhere. I couldn’t enjoy my meals anymore, I couldn’t study in the Library or the Study Hall, I couldn’t sit out in the Flower Fields on a blanket reading, and I couldn’t even go on runs at a reasonable hour because Yunho was always there. It was slightly frightening and disarming, but my wolf was elated. She was practically mewling at all times, baring her neck in Yunho’s direction anytime she could. Good thing my will was stronger than hers. It was peculiar to see how good I was at actually dismissing Yunho’s whole existence, giving him a taste of his own medicine. I didn’t find joy in ignoring him, but I was mad and hurt. I wouldn’t allow him to just crawl back into my life as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t known all this time that we were mates. Only a week had passed since our encounter on the run and the whole thing that went down in the shed, and I was positive Yunho was close to losing his mind.
I had felt like that for a good two months, but I took it a lot better than he was right now. He looked like he hadn’t slept for two days at least, with dark bags under his eyes and his hair all wavy and in a man-bun since it looked unwashed. His nails lacked their usual vibrant colour and his outfits seemed less crazy, as if he wasn’t putting much thought into them anymore, just wearing whatever was at hand. Yesterday, he had even worn one of Mingi’s black hoodies, a colour unseen on Yunho previously. It was jarring, I couldn’t lie, but I wasn’t going to give in to him just because he was moping about me keeping my distance from him. It wasn’t even that deep, I hadn’t even rejected him like he had done with me, I just needed time to sort out my feelings and thoughts, but I suppose Yunho didn’t know that and assumed things were over between us. As if there had been anything, to begin with. Yeri, who had no issues rooming with me but didn’t usually hang out much with me otherwise, was now suspiciously all up in my business every damn day, resulting in Yunho tagging along. I knew the Song siblings were close, but I hadn’t seen Yunho and Yeri spend more than one hour together at the Academy, so they weren’t slick with it when Yunho followed after Yeri, and subsequently me, all day like a kicked puppy.
But if it wasn’t Yeri, then it was Dahyun, who had never spoken to me more than five words at once, but was now eager to get to know me, complimenting me about my rusty coloured hair and forcing me to do beaded bracelets with her in the Study Hall while Yunho sat a few seats away from us, staring at me without even blinking. Their antics had gotten old and irritating quite quickly, but the last nail had been today during lunch. I sat with San and Wooyoung, who were disgustingly sweet now that they had finally sorted out their relationship. They weren’t dating, but they were certainly something more than friends, and they seemed fine with that, so, who was I to judge them? Our lunch was full of chatter as Wooyoung cackled at every small thing, animatedly retelling a time when San had tried to sneak into his room, only to slip down the roof and fall face-first into the mud. He had broken two teeth and had almost fractured his cheekbone if it wasn’t for our magical werewolf healing. My appetite had even returned as my wolf was finally done acting as if it was the end of the world, however, when Yunho’s oppressing sandalwood scent wafted through the air, it felt like my whole day was ruined.
Mingi and his girlfriend joined our table with quiet greetings as they sat, Yunho hot in tow as his eyes burned into the side of my head. I have had enough, but before I could excuse myself, Wooyoung was already talking to Yunho. The vampire girl gave me an understanding look before she sat back, pushing around the vegetables until Mingi noticed and took them from her. I watched their interactions while paying attention to Wooyoung, who had slightly settled down when San squeezed his thigh. But Yunho was still staring, breathing shallowly, his bottom lip jutting out almost pitifully. I wanted to yell at him that this was his fault and that I was sick of everything, but I kept my composure until I couldn’t anymore. A scoff made us all look up, and I realised it was the same creature from the Library, part of Petrova’s friend group.
“Look at you,” She sneered at Yunho malevolently, her lips curling into a wicked smirk, “You thought you had found another bitch just to get kicked to the curb by her, didn’t you? How pitiful.”
Before I could stop myself, I pushed my chair back and looked at the creature with a glare, “Who are you calling a bitch?”
I hadn’t intended to growl, but my wolf was just as triggered as me, and we really didn’t want to be provoked today. I wasn’t confrontational, but I was beyond stressed by the midterms, and now Yunho’s behaviour too.
Before this whole ordeal could escalate into something else, the Petrova girl scoffed, rolling her eyes, “Really, Seulgi? I thought we agreed you’d finally let it go.”
Seulgi, Yunho’s ex-girlfriend I realised, bared her fangs at the other vampire, “Just because you suck your werewolf boyfriend’s dick, you shouldn’t look down on your kin. Or did you forget who you are and where you come from?”
I hadn’t seen anyone get angry as fast as the Petrova girl, her whole face going red, but before the two vampires could turn this into something physical, Mingi stood and faced Seulgi, “I would appreciate it if you stopped harassing my girlfriend, your own friend, Seulgi. Last time I checked, you and Yunho broke up because you cheated on him. What’s your fucking problem, huh? Do you want me to rip you apart? I would love to sink my fangs into—”
“Mingi.” His girlfriend looked sick as she gripped his hand tightly, shaking her head at him. Mingi took a sharp breath and looked at her with a guilty expression before he faced Seulgi again, who looked to be fuming. I exhaled, then grabbed my backpack and tapped San’s shoulder.
“I’m not hungry anymore, see you later.” Before San could ask where I was going, I was basically running out of the canteen, desperate to get away from everyone. The other students were staring at us curiously, and I hated it. I was tired and irritated, I just wanted to be alone and away from anything that was connected to Yunho. I knew I’d have to face him and have a conversation with him sooner or later, but maybe I’d first make him suffer for his choices for another few months. Maybe until we graduate.
My footsteps echoed down the corridor as I decided to head back to my dorm and take a nap, I still had some time until my Calculus class. However, footsteps followed mine hurriedly, and judging based on the absence of an overbearing scent, I guessed it was a vampire that was trailing me. Maybe it was the Petrova girl, I actually hoped it was her since I didn’t really want to speak to anyone who couldn’t take a hint. She was rather good at reading the room, over the past week we’ve hung out more, and I got to know her a bit better. She was anything like Yeri had made her sound, and I was just glad to have a friend who was a female and my age. I was snapped out of my thoughts when I felt sharp nails digging through my sleeve and into my skin, making my wolf growl as I turned around with a sharp glare. It was Yunho’s ex, the black-haired girl, Seulgi.
“What do you want?” I snapped, my eyebrows furrowing when she didn’t let go of my arm. She looked me up and down with a grimace, scoffing under her breath.
“Are you Yunho’s new bitch?” My jaw tensed and my wolf growled, but Seulgi continued before I could speak, “Have you fucked already? Did he tell you that you are the love of his life only to cheat on you with a fucking dog the next day?”
So, she was associating werewolves with dogs now, huh? I couldn’t have disliked her more than I already did, but I gulped down the nasty names I could’ve called her, and opted to be the adult in this damn conversation, “Even if my answers to your questions were all yes, how is that your concern? Aren’t you just his ex?”
“I might be his ex,” Seulgi snickered, stepping closer, “But I know him better than anyone else—”
“I highly doubt that’s true since he has a twin brother, but sure, whatever you say, darling.” I cut her off, my tone turning cold as something like jealousy gripped my heart. My wolf was far from exhilarated to know that Seulgi and Yunho shared a past, but everyone had a life before they met their mates, no? I couldn’t flip out over something like this.
“Listen here, bitch,” Seulgi hissed, stepping so close I could smell her breath. It reeked of blood and menthol, “I’m just here to warn you, but since you want to get smart with me, I might as well give you a piece of my mind. You are nothing to—”
“Kang Seulgi.” Yunho’s sharp and dark tone made me shiver and Seulgi’s eyes widened. I hadn’t even heard him approach, too focused on Seulgi and my own anger. His scent was strong, the sandalwood making it hard to breathe as it spiked sourly, “Haven’t I told you countless times to leave alone anyone that comes in contact with me?”
“Are you scared I’ll let them know who you really are? This bitch isn’t even into you, I can—”
“You can’t do nothing, shut the fuck up, you know nothing.” Yunho sneered as he stopped next to me, a few good heads taller than Seulgi as he loomed over her. She didn’t look intimidated or scared as she grinned widely, almost insane looking. She tilted her head, her eyes slipping between the two of us.
“You think just because you scent this bitch others won’t touch—” I flinched when Yunho suddenly grabbed her by the throat, yanking her towards himself. Even Seulgi seemed shocked, her eyes turning wide as she gripped Yunho’s wrist in fear.
“If you call her a bitch one more time, Seulgi, I swear to fucking God, I will murder you right here and right now.” Yunho’s growl was guttural, I knew his wolf was talking rather than him, but Seulgi didn’t seem to realise that as she started shaking like a leaf. She gasped, her eyes flickering to me before she tried to smooth out her face and look friendlier.
“Is she—Yunho, it hurts.” She whined, lower lip trembling as Yunho’s nails grew sharper and dug more into her neck. I stepped up, knowing that Yunho wasn’t completely himself.
“Let her go, Yunho, you’re hurting her.” My tone was harsh, and I gripped his lower arm to squeeze it painfully. Yunho huffed and let go of Seulgi, who I grabbed before she could stumble over her own feet.
“Are you alright?” I asked quietly as she started to hyperventilate, her eyes filled with tears.
“Are you mates?” Her voice was quiet as she looked back at Yunho, leaving me speechless. I opened my mouth to deny it, but no words came out.
“Yes.” It was Yunho who answered, firm and loud, I could feel him step closer as his warmth mingled with mine. Seulgi gulped, then looked at him before at me, brushing my touch off her.
“I’m sorry.” Then she turned and hurried off before we could stop her, her sobs quite loud as they echoed down the corridors. I gulped, feeling a lump in my throat as Yunho was still behind me, hovering over me as if I would run away if he didn’t.
Even I had a breaking point, so I gave in, “What do you want—”
“Forgive me, for everything.” Yunho was speaking before I could even finish my sentence as he came around me, and gripped my cheeks, taking me off guard, “I don’t demand you do it right away, I know you must be very angry with me right now, but please, listen to me before you say anything. I didn’t believe in mates because my parents aren’t true mates. My father’s mate died when they were children and my mother denied her real mate to be with my father, so I decided to take matters into my own hands and not wait for love to find me. I—I also might’ve been selfish and a jackass for not wanting to settle down just yet, that is mainly the reason I’ve tried to ignore our bond this whole time.
“It’s so shitty of me and I’m so ashamed of myself, but I was scared that you might not want me back, that I might be in a one-sided situationship. My parents had always told us that we have the right to deny whoever the Universe destined us with and find our own person, but they were wrong, they—they don’t know what the pull of a true mate feels like. When Mingi and Petrova started going out, I was so angry, I felt so abandoned. Mingi and I had promised we would never imprint on anyone, but he broke his promise when he imprinted on Petrova. I was so dumb to be mad at him, and I was even more dumb to try and deny what we two have. I realised I was jealous of Mingi at some point because I thought I’d never have what he has, and then you showed up and I—I didn’t know what to do, how to navigate all these new emotions. I also had a girlfriend at the time and I seriously thought we’d work out, but…you were all I could think about and want. In fact, I don’t want anyone else but you, Y/N. I’m just—I’m asking you to give me a chance. Just one chance.”
I gulped, overwhelmed by Yunho’s confession and his proximity altogether as my wolf purred, prompting me to nuzzle my cheek into Yunho’s palm, inhale his scent deeply as my nose brushed against his hot wrist, “One chance?”
Yunho’s heart skipped a beat as vanilla wrapped around us, his eyes regaining that pretty spark in them, “Yes, just one chance, I beg. I’ll prove myself to you, I’ll treat you right, and I’ll love you unconditionally. I want to make up for the lost time, may I—can you let me? I’ll do whatever you ask of me.”
I licked my lips and watched as Yunho’s mouth parted, inhaling through his lips as his heart started racing. His ears were flushed and I smiled, a little amused, as I raised my left hand and cupped his cheek, making his eyes widen. But he didn’t stay frozen, he let his right hand fall from my cheek as he pressed his palm over my hand to keep it firmly pressing into his cheek, “I won’t forgive you overnight, I hope you’re aware of that. You made me really suffer, Yunho, it was so painful at some points, I thought the broken bond would kill me.”
“I’m sorry,” Yunho whispered sorrowfully as he leaned forward to press his forehead against mine, and I sighed, closing my eyes. For a second, it felt as if it were just the two of us in the world, our scents mixed and creating a safe cocoon that couldn’t be broken unless we wanted it to. I felt my heart beat in a new rhythm, one that was stronger and more frantic somehow. I realised it was Yunho’s heartbeat I was feeling, and not my own, it made me wonder whether he could feel mine too.
“I haven’t felt this complete my whole life,” Yunho whispered in a shaky tone and I gulped, angling my head so that our noses would brush together. Yunho’s sharp exhale fanned over my face and I smiled, listening to the whisper of my wolf. She was right, I finally had him, and I didn’t have to withhold anymore. Even if with baby steps, we could work this out, I could forgive him if he proves himself to be a respectable and trustworthy werewolf. So, I tilted my head away, hearing Yunho’s breath catch as if he was panicking until my lips were pressing against his pink ones. They were warm, just like I had fantasized they would be, and they tasted like strawberries. I almost giggled, but I was too focused on the feeling that spread through my body, stealing my breath away even if it was just an innocent and fleeting peck to Yunho’s lips. My body tingled, and it felt like I saw the world for the first time when my eyes fluttered open, Yunho was already staring at me deeply. His cheeks were flushed dark, his fake blush all but disappearing under his real blush, and he was smiling so widely his cheeks must’ve hurt once we pulled away. I chuckled and shook my head, gently placing my arms around his neck as he hugged me close to himself.
“This isn’t me forgiving you, by the way, my wolf is just too desperate at this point for me to fight against her,” I muttered and Yunho laughed, his eyes creasing as he threw his head back, the sound of his joy music to my ears. I couldn’t help but grin widely and tighten my arms around him, wondering how I had gotten so lucky to have him of all werewolves as my mate.
“Mine too, are you busy right now?” The mischievous glint in Yunho’s eyes told me whatever we were about to do would define how we’d move forward with our relationship.
“Not really, why?”
“Mingi won’t be back until late evening, the dorm is all mine,” Yunho whispered, biting his bottom lip as his pupils dilated, eyes slowly trailing down my body as if I was already naked.
“Good, because I forbid Yeri from bringing back boys to our dorm, I can’t go around breaking my own rule.” I wriggled my eyebrows at Yunho, making him laugh as his hands slowly slipped lower on my torso, feeling me all up. It made me feel hot all over, my wolf purring loudly as I fought the urge to tilt my head back and bare my neck at Yunho.
“Oh, the horror on her face if she’d see her brother under your sheets.” Yunho made a mocking sound as he pressed a hand against his mouth, my eyes lingered on his long fingers. I’m sure he noticed because he suddenly smirked, then swiftly pecked my lips before he detached himself from me, intertwining our fingers as he eagerly led the way towards our side of campus, “Let’s stop wasting time.”
I hummed, feeling my chest all warm from Yunho’s warmth, my cheeks flushed and my heart racing in my chest. All this time I thought my mate would never want me back, yet here we were now, headed to explore what the future held for us. My wolf and I couldn’t have been happier.
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hi again!! i saw you mention wanting to write for prince!steve, and i also saw that you write with dialogue prompts so i present to you:
A: “I’ll take care of you.”
B: “It’s rotten work.”
A: “Not to me. Not if it’s you.”
maybe the reader gets injured doing something for training, but it’s all up to you!! i’m sure we’ll love it regardless. kisses!!
thank you for requesting! —prince steve au. fem, 1.5k
Pain was familiar before you came to the palace. Small pains and big, all kinds of hurting, poverty-driven neglect leading to toothaches and back pain, twisted ankles walked on without choice, sore skin otherwise ignored. It didn’t matter if you got hurt as long as you lived.
Not in a dramatic sense. It didn’t feel dramatic at the time, only miserable. You go to work with a migraine because you can’t afford not to. You walk home in the dark because the mag-trams are getting too expensive. You break your holo, so you make do without one. You pick your head up to keep looking both ways and you get everywhere you need to go because you need to work, to get paid, to eat, to work.
That’s how it always was. So getting sick didn’t matter. An injury was temporary pain that your body would fix eventually, and if it didn’t, well, it’s cheaper to pull a tooth than pay to have it filled.
You were used to your sorry life, and then you met Steve. Tall, brown-haired, brown-eyed Steve. Looking at him sometimes is enough to make your whole body a void for things you used to complain about; you wake up across from him in the big bed and forget you can feel pain at all, if only because he’s already awake, waiting for you to open your eyes before he rests his hand on your cheek. You met him and your soul-mark glowed with a lacy, almost feathered light, your wrist braceleted with white colour that soon faded to mellow blue.
When you first meet your soulmate, the colours you make tend to shift. It takes time for your heart to decide if love is pink or orange or blue. It seems to have settled now —when Steve kisses you, your mark turns a Gaussian amber. When you kiss back, his mark turns light pink, like the lotus flowers he keeps in his private gardens.
Right now, your mark hums an angry red. It’s typical in its colour, and it’s common. Most people’s marks turn red when they’re hurting. Yours is a crimson so dark it looks black in the dim lighting, and it throbs in time with your pain like a vexing metronome. You’ll never be able to put it from your mind if the mark continues to remind you.
Steve is uncharacteristically quiet at your side. His own mark is lit in sympathy, mostly pink with his affection, but threaded in red like spider lily flowers blooming against his forearm.
He shifts beside you. It’s been more than a month since your wedding, and yet he’s careful with you. Almost shy, though he can be brash and cocky. You know intimately how sweet Steve can be when he’s in love.
It doesn’t make any sense.
“How’s the pain now?” he asks, his eyebrows pulled together at their starts.
“Not so bad.”
“Could you rate it on a scale? If zero was no pain at all, and ten were enough to warrant another dose of white willow bark?”
“What if I were at a five?” you ask.
“A half dose and a good kiss?”
You turn his way but flinch when it puts undue pressure on your leg, a stab of hot pain jumping from your fractured tibia to deep inside of your hips. Steve sees your wincing and presses your shoulder into the bed, leaning over you, a scolding he doesn’t give in the pinch of his eyebrows as he leans down to kiss you. It’s more caress than kiss, his hand cupping your cheek, his lips barely touching yours before he rests his nose at your brow. “Can you stay still?” he asks.
“Sorry.”
“Just don’t want you to hurt yourself again.”
He lifts his head. Holds your cheek for longer than you can work out why, dotting another soft kiss to your nose before slinking out of bed to find you some white willow bark tincture. It’s a potent pain reliever. You shouldn’t have too much of it. If you were still living your past life, you’d be chewing on ginger skins trying to limp your way back into work. There’d be no time to stop.
“Steve,” you say, watching him a small ways away at the table of your quarters. He turns to you. “I don’t really need anything else.”
“You said it’s hurting?” Steve pipettes the tincture into a cup of water. “You said a five, and you lie. Knowing you, it’s closer to an eight, you just don’t want to tell me.”
It might not be as extreme as an eight now, laying down and bandaged, but it hurts badly and a tincture would solve this. Still, you say, “It’s fine, I don’t need it.”
He brings the glass regardless and puts it on the nightstand. Your bed is yards too big for one person, even two, but when Steve sits next to you he leaves no room between you. He looks down at you fondly. Brown hair like down feather falls against his forehead.
“You’re going to be in pain for a long time.” He brings a hand to your cheek again. “It might sound tame, a plateau fracture, but that’s still a fracture. You know doctors say fracture when they mean broken, right? You broke your leg. It’s okay to want pain relief.”
“I knew that. I didn’t know you knew it.”
“Impolite.” He ducks down to look you in the eyes. You’re a little skewiff, straight to his sideways, but it gets a point across. He wants to kiss you while you’ve said something maddening. “I don’t see why you’re so insistent on pretending it hasn’t happened and that you’re fine. You got hurt, and you’ll stay hurt for a while. It might be weeks of bed and– and you need to be looked after. I don’t know why you’re so guilty about it.”
“I’m not guilty,” you deny guilty, turning your face to lean into his hand, rather than continue to face his imploring gaze. “I just… I’m not used to this. Before, if something went wrong, I couldn’t just lay down and wait to get better, and I surely wouldn’t be laying here with doctors and servants and the ladies in waiting all trying to make sure– It’s like it’s not my fault, and that doesn’t make any sense. I don’t want to be a burden on everyone. More than I already am,” you add, a bitter mumble nearly lost to his palm.
He makes a promise, then, turning your face to the light. “I’ll take care of you,” he says.
“It’s rotten work.”
Steve shakes his head gently. “Not to me. Not if it’s you.”
You press your tongue to your teeth, worried you’ll say something you’ll regret. You don’t want him to go. You want him to mean exactly what he says, to stay here and take care of you, and to enjoy doing it. Wouldn’t it be nice to be loved for love's sake?
Steve shuffles inward and encourages your head into his lap, thrusting pillows aside to take up station against your headboard. He frames your face, upside down, before both hands begin to run down your arms. A hug, in a way, as he twists his face to kiss the skin beside your eye. You squint at the proximity.
“You’re not a burden,” he says, hands climbing upwards now, warm and steady where they travel, “you’re my wife. My cherished wife, remember?”
His tone is silk.
“You… haven’t proved to be a wretched husband,” you confess.
“I did try. But loving you has been easy. It makes husbandry a gift.” He laughs at his grandiose and gives you a kiss that’s more familiar by your ear, his pleading, searching kisses, the kind he likes to press to all your softest junctures. “I wish you could understand that we’re marked for a reason. We were always meant to be together, and I couldn’t have asked for a better person to stand with me. I’m happy you’re here. I want to take care of you.”
Not if it’s you, he’d said.
You wonder if it might be okay to cry. He’s massaging your arms, still bent in half over you trying to kiss some belief in him into your forehead.
“It’ll be okay,” he murmurs between chaste, silent kisses, “really. You don’t have to pretend things don’t hurt you anymore.”
You feel strange, then, shivery and weak as you turn your face into his thigh. His hand slips behind your back to hold you.
“Can I convince you to drink this tincture now?” he asks, just above your ear.
“I love you,” you mumble.
He pauses his trailing hands. You squeeze your eyes closed, but he doesn’t pause for long enough to scare you. “I love you,” he says. “Since the day we met, I’ve loved you. I’ll take care of you.”
He is easy to believe.
#prince!steve au#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington#steve harrington fic#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington drabble#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#stranger things
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"are you dead yet?" a calvin gabriel analysis
a/n: this movie is my current hyperfixition right now and this is just my personal take on the character, ben is a genius :) some of these quotes are out of order
thinking about the intro/beginning scene. that evil ass kid. cal gives such theater kid vibes omg.
i don't have much to say about the opening scenes, i think ben gives an amazing way of setting up the character dynamic between andre and cal. at first, it almost feels like he created an empty character out of cal, so it could be easy for someone to step into his shoes and relate to him (until later). cal is usually the one behind the camera, this isn't to say that he is less important than andre but i feel like this is where people start to create that 'soft and innocent' idea of cal. i can imagine him standing behind the camera with a stupid little grin on his face.
thinking about the firework scene; lets get the first thing straight, cal was not manipulated, gaslit or the 'soft and innocent' one here, and neither is andre. both are to blame for this. notice how excited cal is, or at least fakes it. even while watching the fireworks, he seems unamused compared to andre (who calls this out). i think cal has always been a very closed off person, he can be very ignorant and annoying as depicted at the poem scene and several scenes with andre.
thinking about cal's first solo video entry ; "everything is planned so methodically." i LOVE the way he used that word and why he used it. methodically means structured or in an orderly fashion. i think it's a perfect use of the word, the fact that at first they never had a date, they had a plan and knew exactly how they would execute it. "it's gonna be unreal. it's gonna be beautiful." cal looks off as he speaks, almost like he's spacing out while imagining it. cal knew exactly what was to come, and almost fantasized about it. the thought it was beautiful. he starts examining the camera etc, as if he wasn't just talking about a mass shooting, he treats this very lightly. as if, it's just another sadistic thought. "we are gonna leave you all behind, just sticks in the mud that andre and i have made. we are gonna walk away. you see, we see more than you do." cal is fully aware of what's to come, almost as if he's planned this for years ahead. it reminds me of the tate quote "I'm prepared for the noble war."
nearing the end of his 'monologe' he starts spacing out his words, taking longer to deliver what he's about to say as if he's trying to justify it or make someone understand why they are gonna do what they are about to do.
thinking about the party scene; cal silently makes his way out of the party to sit on the steps with andre. when he gets down to the step he basically slouches over, covering his face as if he's exhausted. "i'm just not good at parties."
he keeps his arms crossed over him but his legs out. his legs out are a sense of comfort with andre but i feel like him keeping his arms crossed is because he still feels very closed off or uncomfortable. he stays very quiet while andre talks with his cousin. apparently they have been friends since about sixth grade and cal has been with his family before, yet he still feels anxious and closed off to them.
thinking about the braces scene; ben did this in a lovely way and he's an actually genius. "his parents spent all that money for years on his teeth, just for him to blow them through his skull." - ben in the Zero Day Commantary
thinking about the grave scene; another one of my personal favorite scenes. cal is very defensive on andre during this scene as rachel basically describes him as a bad influence on cal. i feel as if cal is getting defensive because andre was able to understand him in a way no one else would, someone who understood his sadistic ideas and even help him go through with it. someone who saw the need for a 'beautiful' cleansing.
i also think he got defensive when rachel started to describe andre as like the ring leader of all of this, cal wanted his credit and i think this tied alot into the shooting scene later on.
"im insecure and i need attention." god someone get this boy a myspace page.
thinking about the camping scene; where cal jokes around with his family alot, i wonder how his younger siblings felt afterwards
thinking about the poem scene; i don't think the poem has much meaning - also basing it off what Ben said. just some edgy thing a teenager would say.
cal doesn't seem to take anything seriously. being obnoxious to the other people who were there, ignoring andre's points on trying to stay secretive. cal couldnt give less than a fuck.
im jumping far
thinking about the shooting scene;omfgomfgomfg. in the car it's like we see cal truly happy when he is about to ruin people's lives, his smile seems so genuine like he's ecstatic.
when him and andre get in the building, he seems so focused on his first shot, quick to make sure there are no more people.
don't even get me started on the library scene omg
the way cal walks ontop of the tables, showing a sign of authority over everyone else. a moment where he can finally feel larger than others, where he no longer has to worry about staying in his little bubble.
"are you dead yet?" is my favorite quote from the scene. it's filled with so much anger and almost irony. he's taunting them, he laughed at the idea of someone trying to talk him out of it. i think this was the most freeing moment for cal.
i also think he was ready to die, his last conversation to andre says so much. telling him "you're done." isn't of "i'm done" or "we're done." he was prepared to paint the ceiling with his brains - while andre was so hesitant. UGH I COULD TALK ABOUT THID MOVIE FOREVER
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Starrk time travels with Ichigo to TBTP is everything I never knew I needed! The pain of surviving again, of still being too strong to die- to give up and rest with Shunsui is chef’s kiss beautiful.
I have questions, ideas, thoughts- feel free to ignore any of them lol. First is do you think Hollows/Arrancars have pack instincts/pack bonds. I can imagine the horrible aching emptiness of reaching for friends and family who aren’t there anymore. Pack is forever, should be forever- but now they have to go on looking in the faces of people who loved them once and see nothing in their eyes. No pack bond or instincts that used to link them.
Second is do you think Starrk and Ichigo would eventually start napping together once they settle in a bit more? Starrk might be able to control it now, but I feel like there would be something reassuring about the fact that Ichigo could take it, wouldn’t buckle under the pressure. And then there’s the fact they’re the only ones who know, who understand the weight of it all.
Third is do you have an idea of who you’d ship Ichigo with in this au? I myself am partial to Koyonagi, but I can also see Shinji noticing something off and prowling around like the big cat he pretends he isn’t to investigate. I also imagine that not a few people would assume Starrk and Ichigo are in a relationship lol.
Lastly is I think it would be really interesting if Starrk and Ichigo ended up in the same division, especially since the draw to join the Eighth would be even more tempting. Do you think they’d stick together or try to spread out to be able to investigate/access more.
Thank you, I'm glad you liked it! And I haven't even gotten to the ShunStarrk parts yet but the prospect of it is incentive to write more lmao.
This got a bit long so I'll shove it under the cut:
1) I haven't thought much on this particular aspect of Hollows, although I do see it around a lot, it seems a pretty common headcanon. I def do think they have pack instincts, because even in canon you see Harribel and Grimmjow and others forming "packs" but idk if I'd go all the way to pack bonds. For me it would prob depend on where I want to take that particular fic. In this AU, I imagine Hollows do have pack instincts (again, that's basically canon) and Hollows in general are more sensitive to the reiatsu of pack members, but Starrk's gone so long without them that he's used to the pain of not having anyone. Plus he's like part wolf so I think that makes it worse, but after a thousand years he's probably numb to it. Then of course he got Shunsui for a while, and I imagine he kind of adopted the Fourth as his own and probably a few other Shinigami he'd grown close to, and now all of them are gone. He's in the same situation as Ichigo and grieving that loss, but it prob also feels physically worse for him. He knows what it's like to have pack now, and then he loses them all, and yeah he can sense Shunsui's reiatsu signature halfway across the Seireitei, and half the Fourth is a comfortable bubble at the edge of his awareness, but at the same time, they're not the same and his instincts can tell that too, so it's basically just a constant reminder of everything he no longer has. But he has a thousand years of experience at ignoring this sort of thing, and it's easy to fall back on it, he has to fall back on it because it's not like he can do anything about it anyway. His people, his pack, are gone, and like all the other things he was never able to change over the course of his long life, he can only resign himself to it and shoulder it as best he can.
But Shunsui in particular is a relentless ache in his chest, at the back of his mind, in the pulse of his very reiatsu, like pressure on a bruise on the days he can force himself to ignore it, like a gushing wound when he can't. It's still okay when he's at the Academy and doesn't actually have to see the man. Then Ichigo goes and picks up a stray who just so happens to be Shunsui's family, damn you too Mimihagi may you suffer from carpal tunnel for the rest of eternity, and because his luck has never been what anyone would call good, Starrk's practically expecting it the first time Ichigo awkwardly pesters him into joining their tutoring sessions behind the Eighth Division compound because Ichigo's excellent at Shunpou but he's never quite managed Yoruichi's flawless execution of it, and even before they'd become allies, Starrk's Sonido had been her equivalent, which had seamlessly translated over to Hohou once he'd gained the ability to learn it. Fujiwara's decent enough at it for an Academy student, but still far too slow for Ichigo's liking and also stupidly clumsy and Ichigo can't for the life of him figure out why, so can Starrk please come take a look and see if he can spot the problem or just tell him that there is no problem and all Academy students are just hopeless like this. Starrk wants to say no, but for all that Ichigo gets irritated with his own family for not being able to take no for an answer, the kid himself is actually no better than them, he's just a little more self-conscious about it, but the family resemblance is definitely there beyond just the appearance. Repeatedly refusing would take energy Starrk doesn't have, and he supposes it's nice too to see Ichigo starting to make friends again in this time period, starting to look past his grief. Starrk knows if he really puts his foot down, Ichigo will back off, but he doesn't want to set the kid back in case Ichigo gets the idea to also return to being a perpetual shut-in just because Starrk is, and if that means indulging Ichigo's whims, then so be it. He'd been sent back to serve as babysitter anyway so he may as well do the whole thing properly. And because his luck is just like that, the first time he goes, he finds that Ichigo has already somehow managed to lure his nosy Shiba cousin, his cousin's captain, and the Eighth Division captain Starrk's Shinigami but no he isn't not really not anymore never again to the training grounds even though it's the middle of the afternoon and they should all be at work. At least, judging by the disgruntled expression on Ichigo's face, this hadn't been Ichigo's idea of a good time either. Familiar grey eyes meet his from across the clearing, and for a moment, Starrk is certain someone's ripped his heart out again, leaving only an empty gaping hole in its wake once more, but a thousand times worse than it had ever felt when he'd still been just a Hollow and had never known anything else.
-
2) Honestly Ichigo already spends like 70% of his time in Starrk's room, his own is there just to gather dust and like fake out Kaien cuz the guy either hasn't thought to or at least still has enough manners to refrain from invading Starrk's room too (for now). So like two weeks into the Academy and Ichigo spending five days out of seven crashing on Starrk's floor, Starrk just gives up and goes out to buy an extra futon (and even more pillows because he's a pillow fiend and you can never have too many in his opinion) and Ichigo basically moves in after that. It's definitely comforting for both of them to have the other close by, especially Ichigo because his reikaku abilities are still hit or miss some days. Starrk can relax because his control hasn't been anything less than perfect since his Aizen days but occasionally he still worries about slipping up, except Ichigo is one of the few who can bear the brunt of it so it wouldn't matter even if he does. And Ichigo can relax because he's never really been one for subterfuge, it's actually killing him a little that he can't just bust out his Bankai and either beat Aizen to death or beat some sense into him over the skies of Soul Society like the good old days, but there's nothing he has to hide from Starrk, and Starrk's one of the ones - the only one left now - who's seen Ichigo at his very worst, and likewise it would take a lot of conscious effort on his part to actually hurt Starrk. Lashing out in the midst of a nightmare would wake Starrk but otherwise wouldn't even make him blink.
They can lower their guard around each other in a way they can't anywhere else outside of their room, and with Starrk's habit of carpeting most of the floor with soft things to sleep on, it's only natural to go to sleep next to each other and wake up - in the middle of the night or in the early morning when dawn hasn't even broken yet because it's easier to stare at the ceiling than spend another minute dreaming of faces they'll never truly see again - the same way. Neither of them really moves much when unconscious, and their instincts mark each other as safe, so these days, they sleep best in each other's company.
(This aches too though, sometimes, even though Starrk won't ever voice such a thing out loud. But sleeping with someone else beside him, even when they don't touch beyond an accidental brush of shoulders or a nightmare-fueled flail of a limb digging into his gut, reminds him of another warm body he'd spent close to a decade sleeping beside, half-draped over him or plastered against his back or letting him curl around them in return. It's another thing he'll never have again, but that's hardly Ichigo's fault, and he knows the kid doesn't do well alone either - who in this world does? - so Starrk's hardly going to say anything that would definitely chase Ichigo away because the kid's stupid like that. He locks the sense-memories behind his teeth instead, even when it keeps him up all night or wakes him in the morning just to make him feel like shit all over again when he remembers where and when he is. And it's not always bad. In this era, Ichigo is the only truly familiar thing that doesn't make Starrk's instincts bristle, which means he can sleep more deeply than he would allow himself anywhere else, and that's a comfort in and of itself.)
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3) This I actually don't know, even in SP I don't really have a ship for Ichigo. But ship candidates are a dime a dozen for him lol. Kisuke's always my go-to for him but I guess he hasn't really been that prominent, although I can def steer things that way. I've written a few KoyoIchi so that's def also a possibility. Shinji is equally likely, and if they could give past!Aizen future!Aizen's memories, I could even pull off AiIchi, although if they could do that, I'd just do the same with Shunsui and then we would have less angst lmao. And it might be weird but I'm not opposed to Ichigo/Asuka but in a platonic neither of us are interested in other ppl and don't want to be bothered by marriage offers so let's just get engaged and it'll even be good for clan politics close friends sort of way. They might develop feelings for each other sometime down the road, but arranged marriage AU would be how it would start (this is actually a wip idea I've had for a long time that I've just never written). Also I just feel like Starrk would be vaguely amused by how they both got attached to Kyourakus (or Kyouraku-adjacent I guess), like what is it about that family 😂 But yeah nothing really concrete yet. Ppl might assume that Starrk and Ichigo are a thing because Ichigo doesn't hang out with anyone else at first, and Starrk basically only leaves school grounds to accompany Ichigo somewhere, but I imagine that would clear up after like thirty minutes of watching them interact, esp once Rangiku and Asuka and Gin are more permanent fixtures in their group and Starrk's just trailing after them like a long-suffering dad, the generational gap would be pretty obvious.
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4) Oh man I've definitely thought about this. So unlike SP where Ichigo's like It Is My Duty To Go To The Fifth Just To Keep An Eye On Aizen's Shenanigans Even If That Means Self-Inflicted Emotional Torture The Entire Time, Starrk puts a stop to that nonsense in this AU. He doesn't actually care where Ichigo wants to go, Ichigo can take care of himself even if Aizen breaks cover and goes all traitor on them a hundred years early, and he's not here to tell the kid what to do anyway, but when Ichigo's waffling between the Eighth or the Fifth, and it becomes pretty fucking clear that he only wants to go to the Fifth because he thinks he has to, because there's no other way to keep track of Aizen, and he starts getting tunnel vision the way he does when he's brooding and obsessing over protecting people, that's when Starrk steps in.
"It's one thing if you want to go because you want to," Starrk says, watching the kid pace their room like a caged tiger. "But I don't think you do, not with the way you behave around Hirako. Besides, are you even going to be able to get anything done when you'll be constantly stressed out by being so close to Aizen?" He pauses, then adds with a ghost of a smile, "And then there's the fact that you're a really bad liar."
Ichigo swings around to splutter indignantly at him. "I am not! I can lie!"
Starrk shrugs. "Good enough to fool Hirako and Aizen when they'll be right there observing you up close every single day?"
Ichigo opens his mouth, then closes it again. Good, at least he's self-aware.
Starrk lets him think it over for a moment, tracking the conflicted shift of emotions across Ichigo's face - and he wants to play spy in front of the likes of Aizen like this? - before continuing quietly, "This is it, you know."
Ichigo blinks at him, thrown by the non-sequitur.
Starrk sighs and leans back against the windowsill at his back, slanting his gaze to the sky outside, winter-pale but clear. "What we're doing--it isn't a job with an end date. We don't get to go back home once we're done. There's no home to go back to."
In his peripheral, Ichigo is suddenly very still.
"This is it," Starrk repeats without taking his eyes off the distant horizon. "And you gain nothing from focusing all your energy on one man who won't even be showing his hand anytime soon. If anything, finding out you're suspicious of him will only move up his timeline or cause him to do something drastic, and then we might not be able to predict him at all. And that's not even getting into what the Quincy might do if you show your hand too soon, with or without their king. But even that's beside the point."
He turns back to Ichigo, taking in the weary grief in the furrow of his brow and the bitter curve of his mouth, and he knows Ichigo already understands. Still, he finishes as gently as he knows how, "This is where we live now, and maybe it isn't home yet, but maybe it's time to start thinking about what it will take to make it one. How do you want to live, Ichigo? Once everything is over, what kind of life will you have built for yourself by then? Or will you let Aizen dictate that too?"
A minute flinch ripples across Ichigo's shoulders. Starrk presses on, as ruthless as he'd learned from Aizen, from Shunsui even more. "Will you let him hound you all the way to your final grave? Or will you let Yhwach do it again? Your mother died to save you. Your friends died protecting you. Is their love for you only worth yet another suicide run at a bunch of madmen and would-be-gods? Do you think that this was all you were worth to them?"
Ichigo flinches again, and for a split second, his expression scrunches like he wants to take a swing at Starrk.
Starrk waits him out, because Ichigo isn't an idiot, but sometimes, it's like he just can't understand certain things without them being spelled out for him. And some things, Starrk thinks, should be heard, should be said.
He wonders if anyone's ever told this kid that he's allowed to live for himself too.
(He also wonders how much of a hypocrite every word coming out of his mouth right now is going to make him in the future.
But it's different, with Ichigo. Starrk is over a thousand years old. At this point, going to his grave isn't a big deal. But Ichigo hasn't even reached three decades, and he's spent a solid ten of those years on one battlefield or another. If one of them has to die at the end of all this, it definitely shouldn't be Ichigo.
This kid needs to learn how to live. There's no time like the present to start, and if that means Starrk has to hit where it hurts, well, infections must be lanced sooner or later.)
At last, Ichigo's shoulders slump, and he deflates like a balloon, anger and hurt deserting him, leaving only exhaustion in their wake.
"Sometimes, you sound so much like Kyouraku-san it's scary," Ichigo informs him, flopping bonelessly onto a nearby pile of pillows.
Starrk says nothing. If that had been meant to hurt, well, he probably deserves it.
"Aizen does need to be watched," Ichigo persists, but he sounds almost relieved at the possibility that he won't have to be the one to do it.
Starrk grunts dismissively. "I can sense him from here. I know when he's in his office, and when he leaves a double and takes off for Rukongai. I think that's enough for now."
Ichigo's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "His hypnosis isn't affecting you?"
Starrk tips a glance at him. "The soul remembers. It doesn't affect you either, does it?"
"That's true," Ichigo concedes. "But wait, did he never show you his Shikai? Or you touched his blade somehow?"
"My reiatsu ate it," Starrk summarizes succinctly, then clarifies with a flicker of exasperation at the wide-eyed look he gets, "His hypnosis, not his blade. He never put much effort into hypnotizing the Espada, just enough to make sure we'd obey without too much fuss. And when it comes down to it, even Zanpakutou abilities is just reiatsu cast in a specific shape. It was easy enough to get rid of it after I was whole again."
He thinks of Lilynette and breathes through that particular ache, old now, more scar than open wound, but there all the same.
Ichigo makes a comprehending sound. "That's pretty handy. Can your reiatsu eat it if it's cast on someone else?"
Starrk nods. He'd done as much for Shunsui, and a few others as necessary. Aizen had never been able to affect the Captain-Commander again after he'd been let out of Muken. And for all that they'd been nominally on the same side, Aizen had actually tried a few times. Starrk thinks he'd probably just wanted to see if he could, because after each attempt, he'd turn and look at Starrk with something like amusement and something like contempt.
(Once, he'd remarked in private that Starrk certainly had a preference for kneeling at the feet of Shinigami masters, and he'd asked what made Shunsui the better one to serve, if perhaps he also should've forced Starrk to spread his legs for him, if that would've succeeded in breaking Starrk further, in making him even more eager to please, as much as Shunsui had clearly accomplished with him.
Shunsui had overheard. On hindsight, Starrk's fairly certain Aizen had wanted him to, had waited for him to get close enough to hear everything, though for what purpose even Starrk hadn't been able to figure out, because the resulting confrontation hadn't been pretty. It'd been one of the few times Starrk had seen his Shinigami lose his temper, his wrath a silent deadly creature no one would expect, and in that moment, the shadows around them had almost devoured Aizen whole. They'd certainly left their mark in the aftermath, Aizen's flesh cracked open with scars as black as the void. Even then, Starrk doesn't think Aizen had truly been intimidated, but he'd also never said another word of the sort to Starrk ever again.)
"I'd have to get closer to detect his more intricate workings," Starrk admits. "But I think between that and being able to sense him, it's enough of a safeguard without needing to join the Fifth as well. There isn't much of a point to that anyway. It's not like we don't already have a general idea of what he's doing, or where he's doing it. He isn't the sort to leave evidence lying around either so I doubt you'd be able to gather any."
He glances at Ichigo again, finally letting himself relax when he sees the kid nodding along, albeit with a rather grumpy expression.
"For now," Starrk concludes. "It's best to establish our presence here in this time, make connections, make allies, and eventually make sure we have enough people on our side to tip the scales in our favour. Aizen is one thing, but even the two of us can't take down the entire Wandenreich on our own. When the time comes, there must be people willing to believe us even without concrete proof of the Quincy's existence."
He catches Ichigo's eye, intent to get this point across, if nothing else. "No matter how powerful, there is only so much one can do alone. And you are not alone, Ichigo."
Ichigo's face crumples a little, and for a half a heartbeat, Starrk is terrified he's about to cry. Thankfully, that doesn't happen, and a moment later, Ichigo nods, his eyes a little brighter now, his shoulders a little less weighed down.
"Okay," Ichigo says decisively. "Then… I think I want to go to the Eighth." He smiles a bit wryly. "You're both bastards, but somehow, I like that about you guys. And if it's Kyouraku-san, it wouldn't be hard to work under his command."
He stops and grows more solemn, his gaze a little too sympathetic this time. "Will you join the Eighth too?"
"No," Starrk doesn't hesitate. He's already thought about it, had already made up his mind months ago, even before he'd met Shunsui again. His answer had only cemented further after meeting him. Besides, "I'm going to the Fourth."
He thinks of the agreement he'd hashed out with Mimihagi. He thinks of one of the things that had immediately come to mind when time travel of all things had been proposed to him. He thinks of the things he can do, the things he can create.
He thinks of the life he'd bargained for.
"Back in our time," Starrk only says in the end, meeting Ichigo's gaze calmly. "I was told by everyone who knew her that Unohana-taichou was the best healer in living memory. Now she is alive again, so that's what I want. I want to learn from her."
Ichigo snickers, oblivious. "Well, you are a huge medical nerd so I should've known. So long as you're happy I guess. Try not to take over the division again within the year. I wouldn't bet on your odds against Unohana-san."
Starrk rolls his eyes because honestly Kotetsu had practically gift-wrapped her division for him, he hadn't meant to take over, he hadn't even been a halfway respectable healer at the time, he'd just been strong, with the manpower to support the actual healers, and apparently, that'd been enough. He'd been horrified when Shunsui had sided with them.
Ichigo laughs outright, Starrk shakes his head, and with their choices made, the future begins to take shape once more.
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Lily's meaningless sacrifice
One thing that irks me is when people suggest that in canon, Lily had any idea that Harry would survive (this is merely a canon post, nothing to do with fanfiction). It irks me, partly because it's just incorrect and that's the sort of person I am. More importantly, however, it irks me because Lily not stepping aside when she had nothing to gain from dying is fundamental to the story.
Let's start with JKR own words from an interview in 2005:
MA: Did she know anything about the possible effect of standing in front of Harry? JKR: No - because as I've tried to make clear in the series, it never happened before. No one ever survived before. And no one, therefore, knew that could happen.
Lily knew nothing about the possible effect of standing in front of Harry. Lily was faced with this choice:
Scenario 1: Steps aside, and Harry is killed.
Scenario 2: Be killed, and Harry is killed.
Scenario 1 is (on the surface) objectively better (unless you're a DE and thus want less muggle-borns around). To Voldemort, it's a simple choice: In both scenarios Harry will die, in one, Lily will survive. In fact, this is what makes a lot of people defend Severus' choice to only ask Voldemort to spare Lily. Severus could not save Harry (and apparently it's totally cool not trying to save others if they bullied you).
Lily could not save Harry.
Lily's choice, as far as she is aware, is not whether to save Harry or not, but whether to save herself. And yet, Lily cannot stand aside. As JKR points out earlier in the interview, what Lily did is not that surprising to us readers ("I don't think any mother would stand aside from their child"). Why? Love. Because, as Dumbledore reminds us on multiple occasions: there are worse things than death - most notably in DH:
"Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love."
Love, and life with and without love is an undercurrent in the story. Lily's sacrifice is meaningless when made, and yet it's the biggest and most understandable expression of love anyone can show someone else. Lily cannot, and does not want to, live in a world where she has witnessed her son being murdered - especially when her husband has been murdered too. A world without Harry and James is no world for Lily Potter.
It is also - bear with me - not that different from what it was like to be in the Order at that time:
[Y]ou weren’t in the Order then, you don’t understand, last time we were outnumbered twenty to one by the Death Eaters and they were picking us off one by one...
“He — he was taking over everywhere!” gasped Pettigrew. “Wh — what was there to be gained by refusing him?”
The Order operated against the odds and were being picked off one by one. As Peter asks - what was there to be gained by refusing him? What was there to be gained from standing (metaphorically or not) in front of Voldemort's victims? I've said this before and I'll say it again, Sirius' answer is powerful:
“What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?” said Black, with a terribly fury in his face. “Only innocent lives, Peter!” “You don’t understand!” whined Pettigrew. “He would have killed me, Sirius!” “THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!” roared Black.
Only innocent lives. They weren't fighting this war because they were winning. In fact they were very much losing. But they were fighting because it was right thing to do. Many Order members chose to die, rather than to step aside and let Voldemort take over. Only in their case it didn't make a difference - or at least, it didn't feel like it at the time. Members were murdered, and Voldemort was just getting stronger and stronger.
What was there to be gained by refusing Voldemort?
I firmly believe this is a theme that is repeated throughout the book: not just love and choice, but the obligation to choose what is right, no matter the odds (the irony that this was written by JKR will never be lost on me), and how love is a powerful motivator to do just that. Doing the right thing might seem hopeless in the moment - wasteful even - but that doesn't mean it's not worth doing, or that in the end, it won't add up.
Imagine what Harry felt like at the end of PS/SS when he risked his life to stop Voldemort, only to realise that Voldemort would keep trying to come back:
“Well, Voldemort’s going to try other ways of coming back, isn’t he? I mean, he hasn’t gone, has he?” “No, Harry, he has not. (...) Nevertheless, Harry, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time — and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power.”
Harry Potter isn't about doing the right thing because it will bring you rewards, but because it is the right thing.
“Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory.”
This speech doesn't sit well with a few people because it sounds like you're asked to remember what happened to someone who did do the right thing (spoiler: he died). But that's not the point, of course. Cedric wasn't killed for doing the right thing or making a hard choice - Dumbledore asks the students to remember Cedric because the enemy is willing to kill innocent people indiscriminately. Standing aside will not be good enough against people like Voldemort. There is, as Dumbledore put it, a need to keep fighting what seems a losing battle. Why? Only innocent lives.
Both James and Lily die that evening because they are unwilling to let Voldemort near their innocent son as long as there is breath in their bodies. James had no choice (this irks me because he did, he could have run away - he could have not fought Voldemort in the Order to being with. They all had a choice, but not the point). Lily had a choice. And she chose, like many had before her, to fight what seemed like a losing battle. She died, not knowing that she had saved her son. Her sacrifice was meaningless - like so many before her - and yet her sacrifice changed the world.
In the end, by choosing to do what was right, she was granted the wish she most desired: Her son lived.
#Lily's sacrifice was - for the record - not meaningless#Neither was anyone in the Order before that either#It just must have felt like that at the time#Lily Evans#Lily Potter#James Potter#Harry Potter#Power of love#Harry Potter Canon#And subsequent discussion of that canon#HP meta
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Hiiiii can you please write something with enemy!eddie (or mean Eddie?) with a degradation kink? Feel free to add any more kinks too!!!
Thank you for the request Angel!!!💖 Enemy!Eddie is something I never knew I needed- also I wrote this in like 15 minutes and I’m tired and didn’t proof read it so sorry if it’s not very good :(
18+ MDNI
Masterlist
Divider by @saradika
Warnings; smut, MDNI, mean/enemy Eddie, piv, degradation (reader referred to as slut etc), choking, rough sex, choking, hook up, “princess” used, all characters are 20+
“Fuck- you’re such a desperate slut, aren’t you? Begging me to fuck you again,” he degrades as he pounds into your dripping heat; your arousal leaking out of you and dripping down your ass onto his sheets.
All you’re able to do is moan in response- every time his heavy balls hit your ass you’re reminded that’s all you’ll be when it comes to Eddie. A slut. But his slut. You hate his guts, but you don’t hate his cock. Especially when it strokes your walls so perfectly.
“You take my cock so well… what is this, the 8th time?” He teases, his large hand making its way to your throat, wrapping around it with ease as you make eye contact with his dark eyes.
“Fuck- Eddie… you’re so good… I hate it,” you groan, hating that Eddie Munson was the one to make you weak at the knees and fuck you like nobody else. The one to make you cum countless times while also being awfully degrading at times. And you hated that you were possessive over him. That you wanted no one else to touch or be touched him.
“Hate it? Baby I can feel you gripping me like a vice, you’re loving this… loving being my dirty slut,” he laughs, suddenly stopping his movements, now stationary as he’s balls deep inside of you, dick twitching against your sensitive and slick walls.
Before you can protest, he speaks; “tell me you love it. Or I’ll stop and find someone else to fuck… I know you love my cock, that’s why you come running back desperately every time,” he spits, smirking as he does. He knows you’re close; pussy pulsing and body squirming underneath his strong hold.
“Just move Munson,” you spit back, a moan escaping your swollen lips at the same time. He just snickers and tightens the grip on your neck, daring you to defy him again. He could stay like this all day. Having his cock so deep within your pussy, hand round your neck, and you underneath him; desperate and squirming.
“God… Eddie, okay… I love your cock… so much,” you groan out as he doesn’t show any signs of moving. Less than a second later, his hips move frantically, chasing his high. The sounds of skin hitting skin and his cock pounding your wet heat fills the room; the smell of sex and sweat in the air.
His movement are animalistic as he uses your pussy to chase his high; desperately wanting to fill you up; desperately wanting to drain his balls. Only moans and groans leave his pretty, swollen lips. You’re both close, your hips moving to match the movement of his own, both of you using the other to get yourselves off, almost like a challenge of who can cum first.
And it’s you, one particular thrust making the knot inside you snap and your juices flooding out of you in an orgasmic pleasure; soaking his cock with a loud sob. This only encourages him more, somehow going faster, riding you through your high, before stopping yet again; cutting off your airflow momentarily. this time, however, you feel his hot seed painting your walls; claiming them.
He pulls out a moment later and lets go of your neck. You’re both panting. And both too proud to admit you enjoyed it.
You never stay after these hook ups, so moments later, you stand and get dressed, no words spoken between Eddie and you, until you’re stood at his door, ready to leave.
“I hate you,” you say before leaving .
“Sure thing princess, see you next week,” he smirks. And you hated that he was right. You’d come back every time.
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Something To Be Thankful For
Masterlist || Ao3
AN: With Thanksgiving in the US next week, I could not help myself! Started writing this one last week and debated on posting, but here we are. Enjoy! Grateful for this community! (Also needed to post this before I move onto writing some Christmas content, lol!)
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader
Word Count: 3.8k
Tags/Warnings: Thanksgiving, fluff, domestic moments, holiday traditions, family dynamics, slow burn, new relationship, found family, mentions of grief, mentions of wine/alcohol, and food TW.
Sypnosis: When you accept an unexpected Thanksgiving invitation from Aaron Hotchner and his son Jack, a simple holiday dinner becomes something more. Through shared laughter, heartfelt moments, and the warmth of a home-cooked meal, you discover the beauty of connection and the quiet joy of being exactly where you belong.
You were shuffling papers into your go-bag when you heard a knock on the edge of your desk. Glancing up, you were greeted by Hotch’s warm smile, softer than the one he wore in the field but still undeniably him. It was a smile you’d only recently gotten used to—the kind of smile that reminded you things between the two of you were no longer strictly professional.
The bullpen was quieter than usual. Most of the team had already left for the extended Thanksgiving break. Morgan had been the first to bolt, teasing everyone about having a “real” meal with family, while Garcia had dragged Reid out the door, insisting he couldn’t spend the holiday with nothing but his books for company. Rossi had a feast he was looking forward to slaving over, and you could still hear Emily groan at having to see her mother. JJ, however, was looking forward to the domestic Thanksgiving she was hosting. Now, it was just you and Hotch left, lingering in the familiar silence of the BAU.
“You’re not headed out yet?” Aaron’s voice broke the silence, low and thoughtful, drawing your attention away from your bag. He stood near your desk, hands in his pockets, his tie slightly loosened from the day.
“Just tying up some loose ends,” you replied, zipping your bag shut and brushing a stray hair from your face. “You?”
He hesitated, his gaze shifting from your bag to you and then back again. His expression was softer than usual, but his shoulders still carried that ever-present weight. “Actually, I wanted to ask what your plans are for Thanksgiving.”
“Oh, nothing special.” You shrugged, keeping your tone light and breezy. “My family’s out of state, so I’ll probably just stay in. Maybe I’ll cook something small and watch some cheesy holiday movies. You know, the usual.”
Aaron frowned slightly, the crease between his brows deepening, and you immediately regretted how casually you’d phrased it. His concern was unmistakable, and it made your stomach flip.
“You’re spending it alone?” he asked, his voice a touch lower, softer.
“Well, yeah,” you said lightly, trying to shrug it off. “I didn’t think traveling back for just a few days made sense. Plus, it’s not like I’ve never done it before.”
He didn’t respond right away, and his silence made you look up at him. There was something unreadable in his expression, a quiet thoughtfulness that always made you feel like he saw more than you ever intended to show. His lips pressed together briefly, and then his shoulders relaxed just a fraction. When he finally spoke, there was a quiet determination in his tone.
“Then join me and Jack.”
You blinked. “What?”
“Join us,” he repeated, stepping closer, his voice gentler this time. “It’ll just be the two of us. Jessica is with Haley’s family, and Sean… well, who knows where he is. There’s plenty of room at the table.”
“Oh, Aaron, I don’t want to intrude—”
“You wouldn’t be,” he interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. He stepped closer still, and now his eyes held yours with an intensity that left no room for doubt. “Jack would love to have you there. And so would I.”
Your throat tightened at his sincerity, and for a moment, you could only stare at him. This was Aaron Hotchner—stoic, composed, sometimes impossibly guarded. But now, he was standing in front of you, asking you to spend Thanksgiving with him and his son. It was more than an invitation—it felt like a gesture, an opening to something you hadn’t dared to hope for.
The two of you hadn’t discussed Thanksgiving before this. Your relationship was still new, so new that you’d intentionally avoided bringing up the holiday, not wanting to impose or create any kind of awkward expectation. But here he was, offering exactly what you hadn’t dared to ask for.
“You’re sure?” you asked, your voice quieter now, hesitant.
“I’m very sure,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. “You shouldn’t spend the holiday alone. And honestly…” He paused, his lips twitching into the faintest smile. “It wouldn’t feel right without you.”
Aaron could see the uncertainty flickering in your expression, but he also saw the moment it gave way to something warmer, something that made his chest tighten. He hadn’t planned to ask—not until he saw you standing there, zipping up your bag with a casual mention of spending the day alone. The thought of you sitting by yourself, piecing together a small meal, felt wrong in a way he couldn’t ignore.
You nodded, the weight of his sincerity breaking through your hesitation. “Okay. I’ll come.”
The relief that washed over his face was subtle but unmistakable, and his small smile made your chest feel impossibly light. “Good. I’ll pick you up tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” you said, unable to stop the smile spreading across your lips. “Sounds perfect.”
As the two of you walked to the elevator, silence filled the space, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You felt his presence next to you, steady and sure, and your mind raced with the implications of spending Thanksgiving with him and Jack. It was new territory, uncharted and a little daunting, but the thought of sitting at his table—laughing, sharing stories, carving turkey—filled you with a warmth that hadn’t been there before.
Aaron glanced at you as you both stepped into the elevator, catching the faint trace of a smile on your lips. For him, the idea of having you there wasn’t just about avoiding loneliness; it was about inviting you into something that mattered to him. Jack needed to see that warmth, that joy again. And, quietly, so did he.
The morning of Thanksgiving arrived, and your kitchen looked like a crime scene—a deliciously fragrant, pumpkin-filled crime scene. Flour dusted the counter, a rolling pin was haphazardly balanced against a bowl, and the golden-brown crust of your homemade pumpkin pie was cooling on a rack, mocking you with its imperfect edges.
“This has to be perfect,” you muttered, frowning as you adjusted the spices in the filling for the third time. Despite your best efforts, doubt lingered like a stubborn stain. You didn’t want to bring just any dessert to Aaron and Jack’s Thanksgiving table; it had to be flawless.
But the pie wasn’t your only problem.
Your bedroom was a disaster zone. A few blouses were draped over the chair, rejected dresses lay in a heap on the bed, and a pair of black heels you’d pulled from the back of your closet sat mockingly on the floor. Every outfit you tried on felt wrong—too formal, too casual, or just not you.
After tossing yet another top onto the growing pile, you grabbed your phone and hit Aaron’s contact. The second you heard his warm, familiar voice on the other end, you started rambling.
“Hey, okay, so, uh, what’s the dress code for today? Like, should I wear a dress? Or maybe a nice top and jeans? Or should I do something fancier? I don’t want to overdo it, but I also don’t want to look like I didn’t try—oh God, what if I look like I’m trying too hard? Are we doing photos? Do I need to plan for that? Aaron—”
“Hey,” he interrupted, a soft laugh threading through his voice. “Take a breath.”
You paused, clutching the phone tightly as you exhaled. “Sorry. I’m just… overthinking.”
“I can tell,” he said, still chuckling. “But you don’t have to. Trust me.”
“How can I not overthink? It’s our first holiday together, and I don’t want to mess it up,” you admitted in a rush.
“You won’t,” he assured you, his tone gentle. “Honestly, you’re adorable when you get frazzled like this.”
Your cheeks heated at his words, and before you could protest, he added, “Jack’s still in his pajamas. And as for me… well, I’m not exactly pulling out a suit for dinner at home. Something comfortable is perfectly fine.”
“Wait—Jack’s still in his pajamas?” you asked, blinking in disbelief, looking at the clock on your nightstand.
“Yes,” Aaron said, clearly amused. “And he’ll probably stay in them until I convince him to change for dinner. So, whatever you’re comfortable in will be perfect. You don’t need to try for us.”
His words sank in, melting some of the tension in your chest. “Okay,” you said quietly, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. “Thank you. I think I needed to hear that.”
“Of course,” he said softly. “Now, how’s the pie coming along?”
You glanced toward the kitchen, where the scent of nutmeg and cinnamon lingered in the air. “It’s… well, it’s not going to win any awards for presentation, but I think it’ll taste good.”
“That’s all that matters,” Aaron said. “We’re looking forward to it—and to seeing you.”
Your stomach fluttered at the warmth in his voice. “Me too,” you murmured, suddenly feeling a lot calmer.
“Good. I’ll be there soon to pick you up. Take your time finishing up.”
“Okay. Thanks, Aaron.”
After you hung up, you felt the lingering anxiety dissolve. You ditched the fancy outfit idea and settled on your favorite pair of jeans and a cozy sweater. Then, you went back to the pie, focusing on getting the filling just right while you waited for him to arrive.
When the familiar black SUV pulled into your driveway, you took a deep breath, balancing the still-warm pumpkin pie in one hand and a bag filled with carefully packed containers in the other. You barely had time to lock the door behind you before Jack jumped out of the car and bounded up to meet you, a wide grin on his face.
“Hi!” he chirped, his excitement palpable. He glanced at the pie in your hands. “Is that dessert?”
“It sure is,” you said, crouching slightly to meet his gaze. “And there’s more where that came from. I hope you’re hungry.”
“Oh, I’m always hungry,” Jack said with a dramatic sigh, making you laugh.
Aaron approached a moment later, his brows lifting in surprise as he took in the scene. You were balancing a picture-perfect pumpkin pie in one hand and a bag in the other, your face flushed with a mix of excitement and nerves.
“Pumpkin pie and—what’s in the bag?” he asked, his tone light with curiosity.
You straightened, holding the bag up with a sheepish smile. “Homemade stuffing. And a couple of bottles of wine.”
Aaron blinked, his lips curving into an amused smile. He had expected you to bring the pumpkin pie you raved about, knowing how thoughtful you were, but this was above and beyond. “You didn’t have to go all out.”
“It’s Thanksgiving,” you replied, shrugging. “It felt weird to show up empty-handed.”
“And the wine?” he asked, his tone teasing as his gaze flicked to the bottles tucked in the side pocket of the bag.
“One red, one white,” you said, grinning. “You like red, I like white, and I’m not driving, so… why not?”
Aaron chuckled softly, shaking his head. You’d thought of everything. “Fair enough. Why not?”
Jack reached for the bag, eager to help, but Aaron gently intercepted it. “Let me carry that,” he said, taking the bag and pie from you. “You take it easy. We’ve got this.”
As he walked back to the car, his thoughts lingered on you. He’d always admired your attention to detail, but this? This was another level. It wasn’t just the food or the wine—it was the thoughtfulness behind it. You’d taken the time to think about what would make the day special, not just for him but for Jack, too. It tugged at something deep in him, quiet gratitude that he wasn’t facing this day alone anymore.
The drive back to Aaron and Jack’s apartment was quiet and peaceful, the kind of stillness that only came with holidays. The roads were nearly empty; the world seemingly paused for the day.
Jack filled the silence, animatedly telling you about how his dad had let him help with the turkey that morning.
“Well, I didn’t really touch the turkey,” Jack admitted, grinning. “But I got to pick the seasoning!”
From the driver’s seat, Aaron couldn’t help but smile. Jack was practically beaming, his excitement contagious. Aaron found himself glancing at you in the rearview mirror, the way your eyes lit up as you listened to Jack’s story.
“You’ve got a good sous chef there, Aaron,” you teased, glancing at him. He gave you one of those small, subtle smiles that you were quickly learning to adore.
The warmth of your voice settled something in him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been dreading this day, how empty it had felt knowing Jessica was away and Sean was off doing who-knew-what. But now, with you in the car and Jack’s laughter filling the space, it felt… full. It felt right.
“Well,” Aaron said, his lips twitching into a faint smile, “he might be better at seasoning than I am.”
Jack let out a laugh, and you joined in, the sound weaving through the quiet hum of the car. Aaron’s chest tightened for a moment—not in discomfort, but in recognition. This was something he hadn’t allowed himself to hope for in a long time: the beginnings of a new kind of family, one that made the holidays feel like home again.
When you arrived at the apartment, Aaron carried your things while you shrugged off your coat. He set the bag down carefully and returned to you, his hands outstretched to take your coat. His gaze lingered a little longer, studying your face before trailing down to your outfit. A soft smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice low and warm. The sincerity behind it made your heart skip.
You glanced down at your outfit—a simple pair of jeans and a soft sweater—and flushed. “This? It’s nothing fancy.”
“I know,” he replied, his smile growing slightly. “That’s why I like it. You could be wearing sweats, and you’d still look great.”
Your chest fluttered at his words, and you smiled shyly. “Thanks, Aaron.”
He hung your coat with an easy familiarity, glancing back at you as if he wanted to say more but chose to keep it to himself. For a moment, the quiet in the room felt heavy with something unspoken, but then Jack broke the silence, bounding toward you with the same enthusiasm he’d shown when he first greeted you.
“Come on! We’re setting the table,” Jack said, grabbing your hand and tugging you toward the dining area.
“Lead the way,” you said with a laugh, letting him guide you.
Aaron stood by the doorway to the kitchen for a moment, watching the two of you go. Jack was chatting animatedly about napkin folding techniques he’d learned from his Aunt Jess, and you were smiling, nodding along with genuine interest. Aaron turned back to the kitchen, his chest tightening—not from stress, but from something softer, more hopeful.
The next half hour passed in a warm flurry of activity. While Aaron focused on the turkey, you and Jack worked together to set the table. Jack insisted on folding the napkins into what he called “turkey shapes,” even though they looked more like triangles, and you encouraged his efforts as if he were crafting masterpieces.
“You’re a natural,” you told him as he carefully adjusted a plate.
He grinned up at you, his pride clear. “Do you really think so?”
“Absolutely,” you said with a playful wink, and Jack’s grin widened even more.
From the kitchen, Aaron glanced over at the two of you. His hands stilled on the turkey baster as he watched Jack eagerly showing you his handiwork, your laughter mixing with Jack’s excited chatter. The sight made something settle in him, a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time spreading through his chest.
He shifted his focus back to the turkey, his mind wandering to how easily you’d fit into their dynamic. It wasn’t forced, wasn’t awkward. Instead, it was natural, like you’d been part of their little family all along. He shook his head slightly, the faintest smile lingering on his lips as he resumed preparing dinner.
The apartment filled with the warm, savory aroma of roasting turkey, the clinking of plates as Jack adjusted the table settings, and the soft hum of conversation. Occasionally, you glanced toward the kitchen, where Aaron worked with quiet efficiency, a faint smile playing at the edges of his expression whenever he caught your eye.
Jack’s laughter echoed brightly, and Aaron chuckled softly in response, the sound grounding the space in warmth and comfort. It had been a long time since Thanksgiving had felt like more than just another day, but with you here, it felt different. It felt like something new, something he wanted to hold onto.
The table was set, the food was ready, and the apartment buzzed with a warmth that felt almost tangible. Jack had insisted on lighting the small candle centerpiece he’d picked out, proudly declaring it “fancy.” You couldn’t help but laugh as he adjusted the napkins for the third time, clearly taking his job very seriously.
Aaron carried the turkey to the table, the golden skin glistening perfectly, and Jack’s eyes widened in awe. “Whoa, Dad, it looks awesome!”
“Thanks, buddy,” Aaron said, his lips quirking into a small smile. His gaze flickered toward you for a moment, something softer lingering there before he gestured for everyone to take their seats.
As the three of you settled in, Jack’s excitement bubbled over. “Can we eat now? Please?”
Aaron shook his head, chuckling. “Not quite yet, Jack.” He leaned forward slightly, his gaze warm as he looked between you and his son. “Before we start, I think it’s only right that we share what we’re grateful for.”
Jack groaned, though his grin betrayed him. “Dad…”
“Come on,” Aaron said with a faint smirk. “It’s tradition.”
Jack sighed dramatically, but you could tell he didn’t mind as much as he pretended. Aaron turned to you, a slight tilt of his head. “Would you like to go first?”
You blinked, caught off guard, but quickly smiled. “Sure.” You looked at Jack, then at Aaron, and for a moment, your words caught in your throat. “I guess… I’m grateful for this,” you said softly. “For being here, for both of you. This is the kind of thing I’ve always dreamed of—a warm meal, good company, and moments that feel like home.”
Aaron’s expression softened, his gaze steady as he nodded. Jack beamed at you, clearly pleased by your answer.
“My turn!” Jack piped up. “I’m grateful for… um… pie!” He grinned mischievously before quickly adding, “And Dad. And you,” he said, looking at you shyly. “And for not having to eat Brussels sprouts this year.”
That earned a laugh from both you and Aaron, and Jack grinned, proud of himself. Aaron’s smile lingered as he turned his attention to Jack.
“Well, I’m grateful for you, Jack,” he said, his tone soft but steady. “And for this… for today. It’s been a while since Thanksgiving felt like Thanksgiving.”
His gaze shifted to you, and there was something unspoken in his eyes, a depth that made your breath catch. “I’m grateful for you,” he said simply. “For being here.”
The words were gentle but carried a weight that settled over the table like a warm blanket. Jack didn’t notice the brief pause that followed, busy trying to decide what part of the turkey to claim first, but you felt it—the quiet sincerity of what Aaron had said.
As the meal began, the conversation flowed easily, laughter punctuating the clinking of plates and utensils. The food was incredible, each dish perfectly cooked and seasoned. You found yourself marveling at Aaron’s skill in the kitchen.
“This is amazing,” you said between bites of turkey. “I can’t believe you pulled all of this together.”
“Dad��s a really good cook,” Jack said proudly. “He always lets me help.”
Aaron glanced at you, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks at the praise. “I’ve had a lot of practice,” he said quietly, his tone tinged with modesty.
The meal stretched on, each bite more delicious than the last, but it wasn’t just the food—it was the atmosphere. The apartment felt alive in a way it hadn’t in years. For Aaron, this was the first Thanksgiving he hadn’t spent alone with Jack since Haley passed. The ones before that—when he and Haley were divorced—had been different, fractured in a way he tried not to dwell on.
But tonight? Tonight was different. It wasn’t just the food or the laughter; it was the way you fit so effortlessly into this moment. It was the way Jack’s eyes lit up when you praised his napkin folding, the way your laugh softened the edges of his own grief, the way you leaned into this space like it was where you belonged.
Aaron leaned back slightly, watching you and Jack talk animatedly about the pie, his heart aching in a way that wasn’t painful but full. It had been years—years—since he’d felt this kind of warmth during a holiday. Not since Jack was a baby, not since he and Haley had been on the same page. This wasn’t just a good Thanksgiving. This was a piece of something he hadn’t even realized he’d been missing.
For you, this moment was everything you’d dreamed of when you thought about falling in love someday. Not the grand gestures or big declarations, but this—the little moments. The laughter shared over a meal, the warmth of a family gathering, the simple joy of being wanted somewhere.
As the evening wore on, Jack began to nod off at the table, and Aaron scooped him up, promising him a slice of pie tomorrow. You helped clear the dishes, and the quiet rhythm of the task ground you both in the moment. Aaron glanced at you as you set the last plate in the sink, his expression soft.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
“For what?” you asked, turning to meet his gaze.
“For being here,” he said simply, the weight of his gratitude clear in his voice.
You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest as you replied, “Thank you for having me.” And for the first time in a long time, you both felt like Thanksgiving was exactly what it was meant to be.
@zaddyhotch
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@looking1016
@khxna
@rousethemouse
@averyhotchner
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#aaron hotchner#criminal minds#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x female reader#cm#hotch#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x fem reader#thanksgiving#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds imagine#kiwriteswords
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moth to flame lh44
lewis hamilton x fem!reader
in which y/n y/l/n has a new boyfriend and lewis hamilton can’t help but want to remind her how he knows her better.
warnings: cheating, kissing, intimate touching (like cheek touching and stuff), allusions to the devil’s tango, lemme know if there’s any that I missed please.
an: so I haven’t posted in a while but I am back!! hope everyone is doing well. this is my first time writing something like this so if anyone has any tips on how to make it better please let me know. also sorry for any bad grammar/spelling.
should I make a part 2?
anyway this is based on the song moth to flame by the weeknd & swedish house mafia!! absolutely love this song and honestly I was listening to it the other day and got the idea to write to this. I don’t know if anyone else has done, but if so lemme know.
driver list navigation
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it was 3:45 in the morning.
y/n was supposed be asleep but instead she was wide awake sitting on the sofa on the phone talking to her ex boyfriend whilst her current one slept in the next room.
“come y/n/n, you don’t wanna be with this guy. he doesn’t know you like I do baby.” lewis’ voice almost pleads as he talks.
“this needs to stop. I’ve moved on. you should have too.” she says simply, picking at the blanket that covered her.
“please baby-”
“you have to stop calling me that.” she cuts him off “I ain’t your baby anymore. I stopped being that a long time ago.”
“y/n, he doesn’t know what you need. doesn’t know what to give you. I do.” his pleading continues.
she stays silent. she doesn’t even know how to respond to that. it was true. her boyfriend hadn’t been able to please her in the two years they’d been together. and although she’d never admit it out loud, it was driving her insane.
“I bet he even knows he can’t please you because he knows he can never give you what I gave you.” he says smugly. “because he knows, he can never be better than me.”
“arrogance doesn’t suit you.” she mutters loud enough for him to hear.
“I am not being arrogant. I am being honest.” he responds quickly.
“what do you want from me lewis?” she asks slightly frustrated.
“you. I want you. I want you to admit you want me too.” he states like it’s obvious
“I don’t want you.” lies. but he didn’t need to know that.
“just come cover.” he says simply.
“I can’t.” she whispers.
“why? cause your with him?” he says annoyed, “just leave now. you’ll be back in the morning. I just need to see you baby.” he pleads.
“lewis-”
“come on y/n. just lemme be near you. touch you. that’s all i need.” lewis says almost desperately, hints of desire in his words.
“one hour. I’ll come to you.” she says after a moment of silence.
although she should of felt guilty or even hesitated to answer, she didn’t. she wanted to see lewis. needed to see him. lewis was her first love, probably the only man she would ever truly love.
“I’ll send you the address.” he says, his voice completely lustful as he ends the call and sends the address of a hotel.
- 20 minutes later -
she knocks on his door. her mind filled with guilt and hesitation as she waited for the door to open. however, once the door opened and she caught sight of lewis, those thoughts had quietened.
“lewis.” she says breathily.
in response, lewis smirks and makes space for her to enter.
“you said you wanted to see me, you’ve seen me.” she whispers as she enters the room.
“I also said I wanted to touch you and I haven’t done that yet.” he flirts as he shuts the door and locks it.
“lewis-” she mutters as she closes her eyes.
“come on baby, just let me touch you.” he responds, taking off her jacket as he stands behind her.
“I have a boyfriend.” she says firmly, not turning to face him.
“then why are here? hm?” he whispers in her ear as he stays behind her.
“I- I don’t know.” she mutters.
“you still want me.” he responds as she shakes her head. “yes you do, you still love me y/n. I know you do baby, don’t deny it.” he says turning her around to face him only to see her eyes closed.
they stay in silence for a few moments as lewis looks at her, assessing every detail on her face. memorising her features like he used to when they once shared a bed.
“open your eyes.” he says softly. “lemme see those gorgeous eyes I’ve missed to much.” he speaks again stroking her cheek.
she takes a deep breath as she keeps her eyes closed, determined not to fall for him all over again.
“come on baby, just look at me.” he whispers, brushing his lips against her cheek. “just need you to look at me again.” he repeats, kissing her cheek.
“lewis-” she starts but was quickly interrupted when she felt a kiss on her jaw forcing her to open her eyes.
the sight before her made her wish she had never answered his phone call.
there he was cradling her face like she was a precious piece of art as he looked down at her with pure affection and warmth at finally seeing her looking at him.
“there we go baby, there’s those pretty eyes.” he whispers as he rubs his thumb on her cheek. “god i missed you.” he mutters as he leans his forehead against hers.
“I shouldn’t be doing this.” she mumbles as she shakes her head, pulling away from him and forming distance making his smile drop while he reaches out for her.
“leave that guy. come back to me.” he states firmly, his expression almost desperate.
“we are toxic lewis. we fought all the time, we barely saw each other expect to use each other in bed.” she argues back, putting her hands on her hips.
“it’s been three years y/n. we’ve changed. I’ve changed. that guy doesn’t deserve you.” he says simply taking a step forward towards her which makes her step back.
“and you think you deserve me?” she scoffs.
“no I don’t deserve you. no one fucking deserves you y/n/n. but I love you. more then that guy can.” he takes a step forward. she takes a step back. “I care for you more then him.” step forward. step back. “I touch you better then he does.” he whispers, taking a final step forward until she’s pressed up against the wall. “and you and I both know i can please you better then he does.” he finishes looking at her as she leans back against the wall looking up at him with wide eyes as she breaths heavily.
“lew-” she mumbles out as licks her lips and looks at his lips before quickly looking at his eyes.
“let me kiss you.” he whispers as he leans his head forward and places his hand on her cheek. “please baby let me kiss you.” he pleads, their lips inches away.
she pauses as she keeps her arms planted to her side as she looks at him trying to pull away from him. she looks away from his eyes and back to lips.
“fuck it.” she mutters as she runs her fingers though his hair and kisses him making him immediately return it with a soft groan.
he moves his hands into her hair, “god I missed you.” he says against her lips before going straight back to kissing her.
however, as they kissed, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of regret wash over her as she thought back to her boyfriend peacefully sleeping in their bed whilst she made out with her ex boyfriend.
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This is me not knowing if your requests are open, but I’m gonna slide in your inbox anyways. I’m currently on my period at the moment and want to actually die, so this is me ever so kindly requesting for some tooth-rottenly sweet comfort with my boy. Whether it focuses on the reader struggling during her time of month or just overall seeking some comfort, I will happily accept either scenario
jack may have a reputation for being sassy and dry at times, but when he knows you need it? that man turns into the softest person on the planet.
he’s waiting on you hand and foot, treading lightly, not wanting to upset you any further. he’s speaking softly to you, as not to jar your sensitive state.
he makes sure you don’t have to make any decisions if you don’t want to, giving your tired brain a rest. he picks up your favorite take out, bringing it to you in the bedroom and eating with you in silence, never making you converse if you didn’t want to. he’s doing the dishes, finishing the laundry, running you a hot bath.
the days leading up to your period are always spent with you being a little off. your usual yappy nature gone, an overall sadness to your features and tone, and the random bouts of tears and extreme insecurity.
he hates it for you, knowing it’s not who you are, but also knowing you’re trapped in the endless cycle of falling victim to an upset in hormones that tricks your brain, every month. he wants nothing more than to help, but he can’t crawl in your brain and take the thoughts away. so, he does what he can.
he brings you your heating pad and meds anytime you so much as wince in discomfort. he holds you while giving your belly a gentle massage, trying to counteract the painful cramps radiating through your lower body. he make sure you have all of your favorite foods on hand. he watches your favorite movies and holds you when your emotions finally boil over. he reassures you that he loves you, more than you’ll ever know, and he’ll always be there when you need him.
he doesn’t mind being your rock. in fact, he loves it. he loves knowing he’s the only person that can bring you comfort when you need it most. he loves being the person you reach for when you want to be held while you cry over the notebook for the thousandth time. he loves the quality time he always gets with you during this week each month (unless he’s on a roadie) because you don’t want to go anywhere. he loves how you cling to him like a koala, his mere touch enough to relax your entire body.
he wants to be any and everything you need. he loves that most of time, your relationship is happy, go-lucky fun. he loves the banter you two have and the natural back and forth of your conversations. but he loves this, too. the domesticity of it all. he loves being able to switch to this soft, caretaker persona for a week each month. he never understood the way his parents always seemed to enjoy dotting on the other when they were sick or upset, but now he does.
he knows now, that the simplest, yet most rewarding, thing you can do for your partner is to simply be there. to anticipate their needs and show them the physical representation of your love. to be their comfort when nothing else in this world soothes them. be their voice of reason, even when their brain is working against them. reminding them that even in their weakest moments, they are deserving of softness, deserving of peace, and deserving of love.
#this is so cheesy#and maybe a little off topic#but my fingers had a mind of their own#hockey#nhl#new jersey devils#jack hughes#jack hughes fic#jack hughes fluff#jack hughes x you#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes one shot#jack hughes fanfiction#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes fanfic#jack hughes x reader#jh86
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Hello, Kifaji! How are you doing? I hope Leona-sama isn't causing you any trouble. I know how tough it is to deal with him, but he does have some good qualities, even though he doesn't show them often. Anyway, I wish you the best.
I don't know how common of a take this is, but I get a little sad when I see Kifaji being depicted as a relentless hater or someone who doesn't acknowledge any of Leona's strengths 😅 He's stern with Leona, yes! But Kifaji doesn't insult him or talk down to him. if anything, he reminds me a lot of Trein, who is austere too--but it comes from a place of genuine caring. I hope that this interaction, however brief it is, can be a positive showing of Kifaji's character.
Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.
"Ah, you are one of Leona-sama's guests from school. How good of you to pay respects to your elders.” Kifaji’s gnarled face yielded for a smile. “It's been quite some time since the Bead Brawl. I hope that you've been well since then."
"Yessir! All good on my end," you replied, tilting your head forward in a slight bow, "and happy to report that Leona-senpai's been in a pretty good mood lately!"
"A good mood..." The bird beastman sighed. He knew--in spite of your attempt to word your praise carefully--that it didn't necessarily mean his prince was being attentive. "If I may ask... Has Leona-sama been on his best behavior since his return to campus? He's been avoiding my messages and calls again, and it's troublesome not being able to check in with him."
"I wouldn't call it his best behavior," you admitted sheepishly, "but he's attending class every now and then, getting assignments done. I heard from Ruggie and Epel that he's also driving the Magift Club pretty hard during practice. Leona-senpai is definitely putting forth more of an effort than he was before."
"Hmmm." After a long pause, Kifaji sighed. "Well, I suppose that's an improvement. It sounds as though he has started to find a place for himself here at Night Raven College. That's wonderful. I'm happy for him."
"Kifaji..." You scrunched your brows. "Was this really about his behavior?"
"But of course. Being a member of the royal family, Leona-sama is expected to maintain a certain level of decorum. However, if you will lend this old bird an ear..." He held his breath, then released the secret upon it. "I worry for Leona-sama. That young man has such a bright mind, and yet he has been lost in the dark for so long, squandering that light within him.
"You understand, don't you? Despite how difficult he can be, he is overflowing with so much potential and love for Sunset Savanna. My only wish--Grand Chamberlain or no--is that Leona-sama is able to recognize his worth."
Stricken by the earnest in his words, you found yourself nodding. "Yeah, that's what I'm hoping too."
"Then it appears that we are in agreement." Again, Kifaji smiled, warm as the sun upon the plains. "I do believe he is in good hands here--and that I can trust his peers, such as yourself, to keep an eye on him."
#twst#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#Kifaji#Neji#Reader#self insert#tamashina mina spoilers#twst interactions#twisted wonderland interactions#twst imagines#twisted wonderland imagines#twst scenarios#twisted wonderland scenarios#NRC Family Day
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Marigold Margins: Chapter one
Wayne Enterprises CEO!Tim Drake x Fem!reader
Notes: a thank you to my lovely gf for beta reading this for me, this has been set up to at least to have ten chapters but I might combine some into one. Tim and the reader are both in their early twenties between 21-25ish. (Also indi and scarlet might be the yns of their own up coming stories :^ if yall would be interested). Drop a comment or a reblog! I'd love to hear your thoughts.
Warnings: mentions of cheating, slightly toxic work environment, dick being shameless and trying to set you and Tim up, timmy being cute
Word count: 8.4K
Rating: T
Shit, your feet hurt like a bitch. Your heels clicked against the marble floor, each step sending sharp reminders of the blisters forming on your skin. The golden stilettos had seemed like the perfect accent to your outfit this morning - now they felt like an exercise in masochism. Fashion over comfort: the eternal struggle.
"Morning, Gary," you called out to the janitor, who was already familiar with your early arrivals.
He paused his work, offering a knowing smile. "Good morning, miss. Mr. Drake hasn't made it in yet."
"Thanks for the heads up." You appreciated Gary's small kindnesses - they were rare enough in this department, where your rapid promotion to executive secretary had earned you more enemies than friends.
The executive elevator hummed to life as you pressed the button for the top floor. While waiting, you shifted your weight, trying to ease the pressure on your aching feet. Tension. The word perfectly described your entire situation at Wayne Enterprises. Was the forty-dollar hourly rate worth it? Absolutely. What secretary made that kind of money, complete with generous paid leave? But loving the job? That was... complicated.
The work itself came naturally to you. The real challenge was Timothy Jackson Drake himself. Everyone knew about him - Gotham's wonder boy, the youngest CEO in the country, part of the infamous Wayne family. But after a year as his secretary, you'd learned there was more to him than the nepotism narrative suggested. He'd earned his position through genuine brilliance and dedication. That same drive, however, meant he had... expectations. While never openly cruel, he could be relentlessly demanding.
The elevator announced your arrival with a soft chime. Your morning routine unfolded with practiced efficiency: lights on, computers booting up, files arranged on your desk. The coffee maker gurgled to life, filling the office with its rich aroma. You prepared Mr. Drake's desk with military precision - work files stacked just so, his favorite mug ready, a banana and granola bar positioned nearby (which he'd likely ignore until you forced lunch upon him).
Settling at your desk, you dove into the morning's emails and calls. The sound of dragging footsteps announced Tim's arrival, and you glanced up to find him looking like he'd just crawled out of bed - or perhaps never made it there at all. He mumbled something vaguely resembling gratitude before shuffling into his office, his silhouette visible through the frosted glass partition that separated your workspace from his. You watched as he slumped into his chair, took a long drink of coffee, and gradually transformed from zombie to CEO. It was a fascinating metamorphosis you'd witnessed countless times. The way his shoulders would straighten, how his eyes would sharpen from bleary to laser-focused. Even his typing changed - from hunt-and-peck to a rapid-fire staccato that filled the office.
"Meeting minutes from yesterday?" His voice carried through the intercom, significantly more human than his earlier greeting.
"Already uploaded to the shared drive and hard copies are in the blue folder on your desk," you replied, allowing yourself a small smile. After a year, you'd learned to anticipate his needs with almost supernatural accuracy.
"The Robertson contract?"
"Legal returned it this morning. I've highlighted the changes they suggested in yellow. Green tabs mark where you need to sign."
There was a pause, then: "What would I do without you?"
"Drown in paperwork and caffeine withdrawal," you answered before you could stop yourself. These little moments of casual banter were dangerous - they made it too easy to forget he was Timothy Drake-Wayne, your boss, and not just Tim, the overworked genius who occasionally made you laugh.
The intercom crackled with what might have been a chuckle. "Fair enough."
The morning proceeded with its usual rhythm until your phone buzzed with a text from Bruce Wayne's secretary. Your stomach dropped as you read the message: the Wayne patriarch was making one of his surprise visits. These always put Tim on edge, though he'd never admit it.
You pressed the intercom. "Mr. Wayne will be here in fifteen minutes."
The typing sounds from Tim's office stopped abruptly. Through the frosted glass, you could see him run a hand through his hair - a nervous tell you'd picked up on months ago.
"Right," he said, voice tight. "Can you-"
"I'll get fresh coffee, clear your schedule for the next hour, and make sure the quarterly reports are ready," you interrupted, already standing. "And yes, I'll grab you a proper breakfast from the café downstairs. You'll need more than a forgotten granola bar for this."
Another pause. "Have I mentioned you're terrifying sometimes?"
"Only when necessary, sir." You slipped on your torturous heels again, ignoring the protest from your feet. Bruce Wayne's visits always meant a performance - from everyone.
As you rushed to prepare for the impromptu meeting, you couldn't help but wonder what drama today would bring. Bruce Wayne's "casual visits" were never actually casual, and being caught in the crossfire between two of Gotham's most powerful men was not how you'd planned to spend your morning.
But then again, when did anything at Wayne Enterprises go according to plan?
You stood up when the elevator binged, quickly tapping the intercom to alert Tim with a short chirp. Your hands clasped professionally in front of you as your eyes landed on Mr. Wayne, himself. The man commanded attention without even trying, filling the space with his presence in a way that made your spacious reception area feel suddenly cramped.
"Good morning, Mr. Wayne. Mr. Drake is in his office." Your greeting was the perfect blend of professional courtesy and careful distance. Your gaze slid over to Samantha, Mr. Wayne's assistant, and you felt your smile tighten imperceptibly. She returned it with one of her trademark saccharine smiles, so sweet it could rot teeth. The fakeness radiated off her like cheap perfume.
Last thing you needed was another gentle lecture from Tim about "trying" to be nice to her. You still remembered his exact words from last time: "I know she's... difficult, but we need to maintain good relations with Bruce's office." Easy for him to say – he didn't have to deal with her passive-aggressive emails and tendency to "accidentally" schedule conflicts with Bruce's calendar.
Bruce Wayne nodded in acknowledgment, his steel-blue eyes taking in every detail of the office with that unnerving intensity he was famous for. "Thank you. The quarterly reports?"
You smoothly retrieved the leather portfolio from your desk. "All prepared, sir. I've included the updated projections you requested, along with the comparative analysis from last quarter." You handed it to him with practiced grace, careful to maintain eye contact for exactly the right amount of time – long enough to show confidence, short enough to show deference.
"Excellent." He accepted the portfolio, and you caught the slight raise of his eyebrows – approval? surprise? With Bruce Wayne, it was impossible to tell.
Samantha's voice cut through the moment like a dulled knife. "I hope those numbers match what we have downstairs. It would be... awkward if there were any discrepancies." Her tone suggested she'd enjoy nothing more.
You felt your smile freeze in place. "Everything has been triple-checked against the master database, of course." And quadruple-checked, because you'd learned early on that giving Samantha any ammunition was like handing matches to a pyromaniac.
The sound of Tim's office door opening saved you from further interaction. He emerged looking every inch the CEO – tie straight, jacket buttoned, not a hair out of place. The transformation from his earlier zombie state was complete.
"Bruce," he greeted, managing to make the single syllable sound both warm and professional. "I wasn't expecting you today."
"Best meetings are the unexpected ones," Bruce replied with that particular smile that always made you wonder if he actually believed that or just enjoyed keeping everyone on their toes.
You caught Tim's slight shoulder tension as he gestured toward his office. "Shall we?"
As they moved past your desk, Tim gave you the briefest of glances – a look you'd learned to interpret over months of working together. This one clearly said: "Hold all calls unless the building's on fire, and maybe even then."
Samantha lingered, adjusting her designer handbag with deliberate slowness. "I'll need copies of all correspondence between our offices from the last month," she announced, as if she hadn't already received them twice.
"I'll have those ready by the time the meeting concludes," you replied smoothly, silently adding 'you insufferable paper-pusher' in your head.
As she finally followed the men into Tim's office, you sank back into your chair, already pulling up the correspondence files. At least you'd had the foresight to grab that extra shot of espresso in your morning coffee. Something told you this was going to be a long day.
Eventually, as you'd expected, Samantha was ushered out of the room to give the two men privacy. The glass frosted further, obscuring Bruce and Tim from view – a clear signal that whatever discussion followed would be more about family than business. You mentally added "pick up comfort donuts" to your afternoon agenda, already knowing Tim's favorites: chocolate-glazed for regular bad days, Boston cream for family drama.
The rhythmic clicking of your keyboard filled the silence, punctuated only by Samantha's restless shuffling. She cleared her throat with obvious intent, and you looked up, raising an eyebrow in what you hoped was a passably polite expression.
"You know we've never actually talked," she began, voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "Which is so weird considering aren't we the same age?"
You bit back the urge to point out that she was actually five years your senior and somehow acted a decade younger. The irony wasn't lost on you.
"How did you exactly get this job?" she pressed on, tilting her head in practiced curiosity. "I always heard Mr. Drake was... picky."
Your eye twitched at the obvious implication, but you maintained your composure. Years of advanced placement courses had taught you patience, if nothing else. "Mr. Drake hand picked me for this job," you responded, keeping your tone professional and detached.
She gasped with theatrical surprise, as if this wasn't common knowledge in the Wayne Enterprises gossip circuit. "Really? Do you mind if I ask why?"
'Yes,' you thought, but instead rolled your head side to side, releasing some tension with a satisfying pop. "No, I don't mind. Mr. Drake chose me because he met me through the Martha Wayne scholarship. I was looking for a job during that time and my professors recommended me for the position."
You deliberately omitted how Tim had tracked your academic career with interest long before that – how you'd graduated high school two years early, earned a full ride to Gotham University, and excelled in advanced courses he'd specifically recommended. Let her draw her own conclusions; you had nothing to prove to Samantha or anyone else.
The silence that followed was thick with unspoken questions. You could practically see her trying to piece together a narrative that fit her preconceptions, one that wouldn't force her to acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, you'd earned your position through merit rather than whatever implications she was so eager to make.
Before she could formulate another sugar-coated barb, your phone buzzed with an incoming email. The subject line made you suppress a smile: it was from Tim, sent from his phone.
"If you'll excuse me," you said, turning back to your computer with practiced dismissal, "I have some urgent matters to attend to."
You could feel her hovering, reluctant to give up her fishing expedition. But years of dealing with Gotham's elite had taught you the art of creating an impenetrable wall of professional busy-ness. After a few more moments, she finally retreated to one of the waiting area chairs, her designer heels clicking in defeat.
Opening Tim's email, you found a single line: "Order lunch in. This might take a while."
You glanced at the frosted glass of his office, wondering what family drama was unfolding behind it. In your year working here, you'd learned to read the signs: the level of frosting on the glass, the tension in Tim's shoulders, the particular way Bruce Wayne's visits seemed timed to maximize inconvenience. Something was definitely up, and judging by the atmosphere, it was bigger than the usual Wayne family dynamics.
"The Martha Wayne scholarship?" Samantha's voice dripped with faux interest, her voice cutting through your thoughts like nails on a chalkboard. "That must have been... nice. Getting a free ride like that."
Your fingers paused briefly over your keyboard before resuming their steady rhythm. Two could play at this game. "It was an honor," you replied evenly. "The foundation only selects the top 1% of applicants. I'm sure you're familiar with the process, working so closely with Mr. Wayne."
Her smile flickered for just a moment. "Oh, I handle more of the... executive side of things."
"Of course." You kept your eyes on your screen, responding to an urgent email from R&D while she processed your subtle jab.
"Still," she persisted, examining her manicured nails, "it must be challenging, working for someone so... young. Especially given your... background."
You felt your jaw clench but maintained your professional demeanor. "Mr. Drake's age has nothing to do with his capabilities. He's one of the most brilliant minds in Gotham's business sector." Your tone carried just enough edge to make it clear you wouldn't tolerate any disparagement of Tim.
"Oh, I didn't mean anything by it," Samantha backpedaled, though her smirk suggested otherwise. "It's just that some of us had to work our way up the traditional path. But I suppose there are... other ways to advance."
You actually had to bite your tongue to keep from pointing out that her "traditional path" had involved an uncle on the board of directors. Instead, you smiled pleasantly and reached for your coffee. "Everyone's path is different. For instance, I started in the scholarship program at fifteen, finished my degree at twenty, and earned this position through academic excellence and practical capability. But you're right – there are many ways to advance."
The subtle emphasis on your achievements made her shift uncomfortably in her chair. Before she could respond, your intercom buzzed.
"Miss (L/N), could you send in the Miller files?" Tim's voice was perfectly professional, but you caught the underlying tension.
"Right away, Mr. Drake." You stood, gathering the requested documents, grateful for the interruption. As you moved toward his office, you called back to Samantha, "Please excuse me. Duty calls."
You could feel her glare burning into your back as you approached Tim's door, but you kept your posture straight and your stride confident. You'd worked too hard to let someone like Samantha make you doubt your place here, even for a second.
Besides, you had more important things to worry about – like what kind of family drama was causing that muscle in Tim's jaw to twitch visible even through the frosted glass, and whether you should upgrade those comfort donuts to a full stress-eating care package. You handed him the files before going back to your desk.
Your phone buzzed against the desk, the screen lighting up with a notification that made your stomach turn.
Text notification: 1
Asshole: hey bbg can we talk? I know you're probably still mad at me…
You swiped away Josh's message with perhaps more force than necessary. Josh. Your sweet, charming, lying ex-boyfriend who apparently thought "probably still mad" was an adequate response to finding him in bed with your supposed best friend. You'd been playing an exhausting game of dodge-the-ex across Gotham for weeks now, removing yourself from your usual haunts just to avoid his attempts at "explaining." The mere thought of him made your skin crawl.
"Whose that? Your little boyfriend?" Samantha's sugary voice cut through your thoughts like nails on a chalkboard. How someone could have such a grating voice was beyond you.
"Ex. Ex-boyfriend," you corrected automatically, then mentally kicked yourself for engaging. You shook your head, redirecting to safer, professional territory. "I'd rather not talk about it. Do you think you could send over the info for the upcoming Christmas gala when you get back to your office?"
Samantha's face fell into an exaggerated pout at your deflection, clearly disappointed at being denied fresh gossip fodder. You could practically see her filing away this nugget of personal information for future use. Nothing stayed private for long in Wayne Enterprises, but you'd be damned if you gave her the satisfaction of spreading this particular story.
Your phone buzzed again, and you flipped it face-down with a bit more force than necessary. The movement caught Samantha's attention, her eyes lighting up with predatory interest.
"Bad breakup?" she pressed, leaning forward slightly. "Those are always so... difficult. Especially when you have to maintain a professional image at work."
The implied threat in her words – that she could make this gossip very public, very quickly – wasn't lost on you. But you'd handled worse than Samantha's attempts at social manipulation.
"The Christmas gala details?" you repeated, your tone making it clear the previous topic was closed for discussion. "Mr. Drake needs to review the schedule, and I'd like to avoid any potential conflicts with Mr. Wayne's calendar."
Her lips pursed at your professional pivot, but before she could attempt another probe into your personal life, the sound of approaching footsteps from Tim's office made you both straighten instinctively. The frosting on the glass cleared as Bruce emerged first, his expression unreadable as always. Tim followed, and your trained eye caught the tension in his shoulders, the slight clench of his jaw that spelled out family drama in neon letters.
"I'll expect those reports by Friday," Bruce stated, though something in his tone suggested this wasn't really about reports at all.
"Of course," Tim replied, professional mask firmly in place. Only someone who knew him well would catch the slight strain in his voice.
Samantha jumped to attention, gathering her things with practiced efficiency. "I'll send over the gala information this afternoon," she chirped, finally, blessedly ready to leave.
You watched as Bruce and Samantha departed, waiting until the elevator doors closed before turning to Tim. He was still standing there, staring at the closed elevator doors as if they held the secrets of the universe.
"I ordered Thai from that place you like," you said softly. "And I can have someone grab those donuts from downtown if-"
"You're a lifesaver," he interrupted, running a hand through his carefully styled hair, completely destroying its professional arrangement. "But can we... can we not eat in the office?"
You blinked in surprise. In all your time working here, Tim had never suggested leaving the office for lunch. "Of course. Where would you prefer?"
"The roof?" He looked almost sheepish suggesting it. "I just... I need air that doesn't smell like Wayne Enterprises for a few minutes."
Your phone buzzed again – probably Josh – but you ignored it. "I'll grab the food when it arrives. You should go up now, get some fresh air."
He nodded, already loosening his tie as he headed for the stairwell. Twenty minutes later, you found him sitting on the maintenance ledge, jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up, looking more like a college student than a CEO.
"One Pad Thai with extra peanuts," you announced, settling down beside him with the takeout bags. "And yes, I grabbed extra spring rolls."
"You know me too well," he managed a small smile, accepting the container you handed him. "I'm sorry about..." he gestured vaguely with his chopsticks, "all that."
"Family's complicated," you offered, carefully keeping your tone neutral as you opened your own lunch.
"Bruce wants me to relocate to the Metropolis office," he said suddenly, staring out at the Gotham skyline. "Says it would be 'good for my professional development.'"
You nearly choked on your spring roll. "Metropolis?"
"Yeah." He stabbed at his noodles with more force than necessary. "Because apparently running the Gotham office isn't enough of a challenge."
"That's ridiculous," you said before you could stop yourself. "You've increased productivity by 40% since taking over, our client retention is at an all-time high, and the employee satisfaction surveys-"
"Have you been memorizing my achievements?" He turned to look at you, a hint of amusement breaking through his stress.
You felt heat rise to your cheeks. "It's my job to know these things."
"Right. Your job." Something flickered across his face too quickly to read. "Speaking of jobs... you'd have to come too, you know. To Metropolis. If I agreed."
Your heart did a complicated flip in your chest. "Are you... considering it?"
"No," he said quickly, then paused. "Maybe. I don't know." He set down his food and turned to face you fully. "Would you? Come to Metropolis, I mean? If I asked?"
The question hung in the air between you, heavy with implications neither of you were ready to address. Your phone buzzed again in your pocket, but for once, you didn't even notice.
You hummed softly, letting your gaze drift over Gotham's sprawling landscape. From this height, you could actually see past the city's ever-present smog, though any true Gothamite knew the city's real beauty emerged after dark. The endless sea of lights, the way the neon cut through the darkness – it was home, or at least it had been.
Your phone buzzed again, another message from Josh joining the pile. You glanced down at the string of notifications, each one a reminder of how quickly your social circle had imploded. Some friends they'd turned out to be – taking his side, sending nasty messages about how a "prude" like you had it coming. The betrayal still stung, but maybe not as sharply as it should. Maybe that said something about how ready you were to leave it all behind.
Your parents had always encouraged you to spread your wings beyond Gotham's borders anyway. "The world's bigger than Crime Alley," your mom used to say. You slipped the phone back into your pocket, silencing the ghosts of relationships past.
"Yeah, I'd come with you," you said finally, turning back to Tim with a slight smile. "It's my job to be at your side during all the professional hours anyway."
Something shifted in his expression at your words. "'Professional hours,'" he repeated, as if testing the phrase. "Right. Because that's what this is about. Professional... obligations."
The way he said it made your heart skip a beat. There was a weight to his words that seemed to encompass more than just office dynamics and working relationships. The autumn breeze picked up, carrying with it the distant sounds of the city below, and you found yourself hyperaware of how close you were sitting, how his rolled-up sleeves revealed surprisingly toned forearms, how his hair was still slightly mussed from running his hands through it.
"Tim," you started, then caught yourself. "Mr. Drake-"
"Don't," he interrupted softly. "Don't do that. Not up here." He gestured to the expanse around you. "We're literally above all that right now."
Your phone buzzed again, and this time Tim noticed your slight wince. "Everything okay?"
"Just..." you waved a hand dismissively, "ex-boyfriend drama. Nothing important."
His expression darkened slightly. "Josh?" At your surprised look, he added quickly, "I... might have overheard some break room gossip. About what happened."
"Great," you muttered, heat rising to your cheeks. "Good to know my humiliation made it all the way to the executive floor."
"Hey," his voice was gentle but firm, "you're not the one who should be humiliated. He's the idiot who-" he cut himself off, jaw clenching. "Sorry. Not my place."
"No, it's..." you found yourself smiling despite everything, "it's kind of nice. Hearing someone take my side for once."
The look he gave you then made your breath catch. "I'm always on your side," he said quietly, and somehow you knew he meant more than just the Josh situation.
You forced yourself to take a steady breath, trying to calm your racing heart. No. Absolutely not. You were not going to develop feelings for your boss. It didn't matter that Tim was barely a year older than you, or that his disheveled appearance right now made him look unfairly attractive, or that the way he was looking at you made your stomach do flips. This was a completely professional relationship and it would stay that way. You cleared your throat and offered him a carefully measured smile.
"Well, if we do end up moving to the Metropolis office, I'd have to start looking at apartments over there," you murmured, already running calculations in your head. Even with your generous salary, Metropolis real estate prices were notorious. Maybe you could find something affordable downtown, though the commute would be rough. Your inner penny-pincher was already cringing at the potential security deposits and elevated cost of living.
"About that," Tim straightened slightly, his expression shifting to something you couldn't quite read. "Wayne Enterprises has corporate housing in Metropolis. High-rise apartments, actually. Usually reserved for executives and their... key personnel."
The way he said 'key personnel' made your pulse jump again. Traitor heart.
"Key personnel?" you echoed, trying to keep your tone light.
"Well," he shifted slightly closer, and you caught a whiff of his expensive cologne mixed with coffee, "can't have my irreplaceable assistant living in some sketchy downtown apartment, can I?"
"I'm hardly irreplaceable," you protested weakly, even as your brain helpfully reminded you that no other assistant had lasted more than three months before you.
Tim's expression turned serious. "You are, though. You're the only one who's ever..." he paused, seeming to choose his words carefully, "understood. The job. The pressure. Me."
The last word hung in the air between you, loaded with unspoken implications. You became acutely aware of how close you were sitting, how easy it would be to just lean a little closer, how his eyes seemed to darken as they met yours.
Your phone buzzed again, shattering the moment. Tim's gaze flickered to your pocket, then back to your face, something almost like frustration crossing his features.
You sighed, glancing down at your persistently buzzing pocket. "I should probably..." you mumbled, finally pulling out your phone. You knew Josh well enough to know he wouldn't stop until you dealt with him directly. Your face twisted in disgust as you scrolled through the barrage of messages – a nauseating mix of sweet manipulation ("baby, please, we can work this out"), degrading insults, and crude comments about your intimate life together. The last ones made your skin crawl, especially his boasts about being the 'only one who could make you feel that good.' Gross.
You could feel Tim's eyes on you as you stared at the screen, trying to formulate a response that wouldn't just feed into Josh's need for attention. The weight of Tim's gaze was different from the usual scrutiny you felt in the office – more protective than professional.
"Maybe you should just block him?" Tim suggested, his voice carrying an edge you rarely heard. The CEO tone, as you privately called it – the one that made board members squirm.
You shook your head, words tumbling out before you could stop them. "No way. I need him to see I can live without him." The admission hung in the air, more vulnerable than you'd intended. Your fingers hovered over your phone's keypad as you entered your passcode, very aware of how childish that might sound to someone like Tim.
But when you glanced up, there was no judgment in his expression – just something fierce and protective that made your breath catch. He shifted closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body in the cool rooftop air.
"He already sees it," Tim said quietly, his eyes fixed on your face. "Every day you walk into this building, every meeting you handle perfectly, every time you prove you're exactly where you belong – that's you living without him. And doing it better than he could ever imagine."
The intensity in his voice made you look up, and suddenly you were trapped in his gaze, your phone temporarily forgotten in your hands. This wasn't your boss speaking anymore – this was something else entirely, something that made your heart race and your professional boundaries start to blur.
Your breath caught as you suddenly became hyperaware of every point of contact between you – his fingers wrapped gently but firmly around your bicep, his head tilted toward yours, close enough that you could see the flecks of blue in his eyes. "Mr. Drake, I-"
He rolled his eyes, but there was a playful warmth in the gesture that made your stomach flip. "Tim. Just Tim for right now."
Your lips parted to respond, but the creak of the rooftop door shattered the moment. Dick Grayson, the eldest Wayne sibling, emerged into the afternoon light, and Tim immediately pulled back, professional distance snapping into place like a shield. The sudden absence of his warmth left you feeling oddly bereft.
"Hey Timbo, sorry to interrupt your lunch but I need a favor." Dick's trademark charming smile did nothing to soften Tim's exasperated expression.
"Sure, just let me finish my food-" Tim paused, catching something in Dick's expression. "This is kind of favor you need now?" When Dick nodded apologetically, Tim grumbled but began closing his takeout container.
Before standing, he turned back to you, placing his hand over your phone. His eyes locked with yours with an intensity that made your knees weak despite sitting down. "Block him." It wasn't a request – it was pure CEO Tim Drake, the voice that brokered no argument. "We won't have room for people like him if we move to Metropolis, am I understood?"
The 'we' in that sentence felt weighted with possibility, but you pushed that thought aside. "Yes, Mr. Drake."
You watched as he gathered his things, noting how his professional mask slipped perfectly back into place, though something in his eyes remained softer when he looked at you. As he followed Dick toward the door, you could have sworn you saw him shoot his brother an irritated look.
Your phone buzzed again in your hands, but this time, instead of anxiety, you felt a surge of determination. Tim was right – you didn't need Josh's validation. With steady fingers, you pulled up his contact information and hit 'block.'
The city stretched out below you, Metropolis somewhere beyond the horizon, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe properly.
.
.
.
Red and blue lights pulsed across your face as the bass thundered through your chest, making your ribs vibrate with each beat. The news of the Metropolis transfer was official now – you and Tim would be heading the new office. You couldn't quite suppress the smug satisfaction you'd felt watching Samantha's face fall when the announcement was made, her practiced smile cracking just slightly at the edges.
Now, though, you were somewhat regretting sharing the news with your family. Your elder sisters had immediately sprung into celebration mode: Indi, the successful Gotham model, had easily swept you all past the velvet ropes of one of the city's hottest clubs, while Scarlet had managed a few congratulatory drinks before motherhood called her home to your nephew.
That left you nursing a dirty triple Shirley temple (which had been a mouthful to order over the deafening music) and hugging the wall like it was your job. From your vantage point, you could see Indi on the dance floor, practically melded to some guy she'd been flirting with all night. The sequins on her dress caught the strobing lights, making her look like some sort of disco ball goddess – exactly the kind of attention-grabbing presence she was known for.
You took another sip of your drink, the cherry sweetness a sharp contrast to the adult addition of vodka. The music shifted, something with a heavier beat that made the crowd surge with renewed energy. You checked your phone out of habit – no more texts from Josh, thank god, but there was a work email notification that made your heart skip:
From: Timothy Drake-Wayne
Subject: Tomorrow's Schedule Change
Time Sent: 10:47 PM
Your finger hovered over the notification, debating whether to open it. Tim had been... different since that day on the roof. Not obviously so – you both maintained perfect professionalism in the office – but there were moments: lingering glances, fingers brushing when passing documents, the way he'd started saying your name just a touch softer than necessary.
As you hesitated to open it someone bumped into you, luckily you saved your drink from spilling all over the black halter dress you were wearing showing off your back.
“I'm so sorry, I didn't-” the masculine voice was cut off as you looked up and you both stilled. Seeing Tim out of a suit was jarring, seeing tim out of a suit and in a club? That was wild.
“Mr. Drake!”
“We are out of work. Just tim” he sighed at you but it was almost in a pleased exasperation.
“I'm sorry, Mr. Drake but you'll have to try harder than that,” The teasing words slipped out before you could stop them. Tim blinked and then a wry smirk pulled on his face.
Tim's eyes darkened at your challenge, that CEO intensity suddenly focused entirely on you. "Try harder?" He stepped closer, just shy of improper, voice dropping low enough that you had to lean in to hear him over the music. "What exactly would that take?"
The bass pulsed through your bodies, and you were acutely aware of how different this felt from your usual office dynamics. Here, in the strobing lights and thundering music, with your back exposed by the halter dress and his suit traded for dark jeans and a fitted black henley, the careful professional distance you maintained seemed to blur and shift.
"Tim!" A familiar voice cut through the moment. Dick Grayson emerged from the crowd, another brother – Jason – trailing behind him. "Thought I saw you come this way." His eyes landed on you, and his grin widened. "Well, well. Fancy meeting you here."
You felt heat rise to your cheeks, suddenly very conscious of how close you and Tim were standing. "Mr. Grayson," you managed, trying to sound professional despite the club setting.
"Oh god, not you too," Dick groaned. "It's just Dick, please. We're not at work."
"Leave her alone," Jason cut in, giving you a knowing look. "Some of us appreciate proper manners." He turned to Tim with a smirk. "Though I gotta say, baby bird, running into your secretary at a club? That's some rom-com level timing."
"Assistant," you and Tim corrected simultaneously, then shared a quick glance that made Dick's grin grow impossibly wider.
"Right, assistant," Jason drawled, making the word sound far more suggestive than it had any right to be. "The one Bruce mentioned is moving to Metropolis with you?"
The music shifted again, something slower but still thrumming with energy. Tim's jaw tightened slightly at the mention of Bruce, and you found yourself unconsciously shifting closer, a movement that didn't go unnoticed by his brothers.
"Speaking of Metropolis," Dick's eyes gleamed with mischief, "I hear the nightlife there is pretty tame compared to Gotham. You two might have to make your own entertainment."
"Dick," Tim's voice carried a warning edge that made you think of board meetings and difficult clients.
"What? I'm just saying, all those late nights in the office..." Dick trailed off suggestively.
You took a long sip of your drink, using the moment to steady yourself. "I should probably find my sister," you said, looking for an escape from this increasingly dangerous conversation. "She tends to get... ambitious when left unsupervised too long."
"The model?" Jason asked, eyebrows rising. "Tall, sequined dress, currently wrapped around that guy by the DJ booth?"
You turned to look where he was pointing, and sure enough, there was Indi, having apparently upgraded from her previous dance partner. "That's her."
"Runs in the family, huh?" Dick muttered, too quiet for anyone but Jason to hear, though the sharp look Tim shot him suggested he'd caught it too.
"I'll walk you over," Tim said suddenly, placing a hand on the small of your back. The touch sent electricity down your spine, his fingers warm against your exposed skin.
As you moved through the crowd, Tim's hand stayed steady on your back, guiding you through the press of bodies. The contact felt simultaneously too much and not enough, and you found yourself hyperaware of every brush of his fingers, every slight pressure as he steered you around dancing couples.
"I didn't know you came to places like this," you said, having to lean close to his ear to be heard over the music. His cologne filled your senses, different from his usual office scent – something darker, spicier.
He leaned down, his breath tickling your ear as he replied, "I don't, usually. Dick dragged me out to 'celebrate' the Metropolis news." His tone on 'celebrate' suggested this wasn't entirely voluntary. "Though it's looking up now."
The implications in that last statement made your heart race, and you were grateful for the dim lighting hiding your blush. You were nearing the DJ booth now, Indi's sequined dress acting like a beacon in the strobing lights.
Tim's hand slipped from your back as you reached the edge of the dance floor, and the loss of contact felt almost physical. You turned to face him, finding his eyes already on you, intense despite the chaotic lighting.
"About that email," he said, stepping closer to be heard over the music. "I was wondering if you'd like to-"
"Baby sis!" Indi's voice cut through whatever Tim was about to say. She detached herself from her dance partner, practically bouncing over to you. "There you are! And with company?" Her eyes raked over Tim appreciatively. "Very nice company."
"Mr. Drake-Wayne," you introduced formally, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism even as Indi's eyebrows shot up in recognition.
"Your boss?" she stage-whispered, not nearly as quietly as she probably thought. "The one you're moving to Metropolis with?" Her grin turned predatory. "Oh, this is interesting."
You felt your face flame. "Indi-"
"Dance with us!" she declared, already reaching for both you and Tim. "Consider it a pre-Metropolis celebration!"
The music swelled, and you found yourself being pulled onto the dance floor, Tim's amused expression the last thing you saw before the crowd swallowed you up. His hand found yours in the chaos, steady and warm, and suddenly the bass didn't seem quite so overwhelming.
As Indi disappeared back into the crowd, presumably to find her previous dance partner, you felt Tim pull you closer, his other hand finding its way back to your exposed back.
"So," he said, mouth close to your ear, "about that email..."
Your heart thundered in time with the music as you waited for him to continue, but a commotion near the bar caught your attention. Your eyes widened as you recognized a familiar figure being escorted out by security.
"Is that...?" Tim followed your gaze.
"Josh," you confirmed, watching as your ex-boyfriend was firmly guided toward the exit, his protests lost in the music. "I didn't even know he came here."
Tim's hand tightened slightly on your back. "Want me to have security make sure he stays out?"
The protective edge in his voice made something warm bloom in your chest. "No," you said, surprising yourself with how much you meant it. "He's not worth the effort anymore."
Tim's eyes softened as he looked at you, and suddenly the club, the music, even Josh's dramatic exit – it all faded into background noise. "Good," he said quietly, though you heard him perfectly despite the chaos around you. "Because I was thinking..."
The music shifted again, something slower, more intimate, and Tim pulled you imperceptibly closer.
"Yes?" you prompted, your heart racing as his hand traced small circles on your back.
"Maybe we should discuss those Metropolis arrangements... over dinner?"
The implications in his tone made it clear this wasn't about corporate housing or office logistics. You looked up at him, finding nothing but sincerity in his eyes, and felt a smile tug at your lips.
"That would be highly unprofessional, Mr. Drake," you said, but there was no real protest in your voice.
His answering smile was worth every HR regulation you were about to break. "I thought you told me to try harder, hm?"
And there, in the middle of a Gotham nightclub, with your ex being thrown out and your sister probably watching with glee, you finally let yourself lean into the warmth of Timothy Drake-Wayne's embrace.
"Dinner sounds perfect," you whispered, "Tim."
His smile could have lit up all of Gotham.
That's how you and Tim had gotten swept over into a booth and were actually just talking for once. Well. You both might have been a bit tipsy.
“Honestly Josh wasn't even my worst ex. There was this one girl, Maxine. Max and I dated for like all of college but she'd never bring me home or anything cause she was still closeted and stuff which I mean I get it. I didn't come out til I was like sixteenish luckily my family had enough things to worry about with my sister scarlet becoming a mom that one of us being bi-sexual was kinda glossed over. But anyway Max ended up breaking up with me and getting engaged to just some guy within like a month.” Your hands moved as you spoke, nearly sloshing your drink but Tim steadied it for you and gave a sympathetic nod.
“I get that,” he murmured. Your eyes trailed over the crowd again silently checking up on your sister. You nearly spat your drink out causing Tim to also look over. “I think your brother is trying to serenade my sister.”
You watched in horror and slight pride as indi and dick were clearly flirting with each other on the other side of the club.
“Probably planning how to embarrass us next too,” Tim hummed his hand resting on your thigh.
You let out a soft laugh, not moving away from his touch. "Oh god, can you imagine the family dinners? Indi would absolutely weaponize her model status to terrorize Bruce Wayne."
Tim's thumb traced absent patterns on your thigh, sending little sparks of electricity through your body. "Honestly? I'd pay to see that. Bruce needs someone to ruffle his feathers occasionally." His eyes sparkled with mischief. "Though I have to say, you've been doing a pretty good job of that yourself."
"Me?" You blinked in surprise, taking another sip of your drink.
"Mmhmm." Tim shifted closer, his shoulder pressing against yours in the intimate space of the booth. "The way you handle Samantha? Your complete overhaul of the filing system? That presentation you gave last week?" His voice dropped lower. "Bruce hasn't been this impressed by anyone since Barbara Gordon herself."
The comparison to the legendary Barbara Gordon – now CFO of Wayne Tech – made you flush with pride and embarrassment. "I just do my job."
"No," Tim's voice was serious now, though his hand remained warm on your thigh. "You do so much more than that. You..." he paused, seeming to gather his thoughts. "You make everything better. Easier. Not just the work stuff, but..." he gestured vaguely with his free hand, "everything."
The vulnerability in his voice made your heart clench. You'd never seen him quite like this – guard down, words flowing freely, eyes soft in the dim club lighting. It was a far cry from the composed CEO who commanded boardrooms and managed million-dollar deals.
"Speaking of making things better," you said, trying to lighten the suddenly heavy moment, "remember that time you caught me stress-eating donuts in the supply closet after the Johnson meeting?"
Tim's laugh rumbled through his chest. "And instead of being professional about it, I just sat down and asked for one?" His eyes crinkled at the corners. "Best decision I ever made. Though I still maintain Boston cream is superior to your chocolate glazed preference."
"Excuse you, chocolate glazed is a classic for a reason." You nudged his shoulder playfully, then froze as you caught sight of Dick and Indi again. "Oh my god, they're exchanging numbers."
Tim followed your gaze and groaned. "Dick's never going to let this go. He's probably already planning double dates."
The casual way he said 'double dates' made your stomach flip. "Is that what this is?" you asked before you could stop yourself. "A date?"
Tim's hand tightened slightly on your thigh as he turned to face you fully. The booth suddenly felt much smaller, more intimate. "Do you want it to be?"
Your breath caught as you met his gaze. There was no trace of the CEO now – this was just Tim, looking at you like you were something precious and dangerous all at once.
"I..." you started, then jumped as someone slid into the booth opposite you.
"Baby bird!" Jason's voice cut through the moment like a knife. "And the assistant who's definitely just an assistant." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Tim's hand didn't move from your thigh, though you saw his jaw clench slightly. "What do you want, Jason?"
"Can't a guy check on his baby brother?" Jason's grin was positively feral. "Especially when said brother is getting cozy with his very attractive employee in a very public place?"
You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but before you could formulate a response, Indi appeared at the table, Dick in tow.
"Sister swap!" she announced cheerfully. "Dick's taking me to this amazing late-night food truck, and you" she pointed at you with a perfectly manicured finger, "are coming with us because I refuse to eat street food alone with a strange man, even if he is unreasonably attractive."
"Hey!" Dick protested, though he was grinning.
You felt Tim's hand squeeze your thigh once before reluctantly withdrawing. "Rain check on that answer?" he murmured, low enough that only you could hear.
Your heart did a complicated flip in your chest as you nodded. As you slid out of the booth, letting Indi pull you toward the exit, you couldn't help but look back. Tim was watching you go, something intense and promising in his expression that made your skin tingle.
"So," Indi linked her arm through yours as you emerged into the cool Gotham night, Dick and Jason trailing behind you. "Want to tell me why you never mentioned how hot your boss is? Or why his hand was very obviously on your thigh for the past hour?"
"Or why you're both looking at each other like you're starring in your own personal rom-com?" Dick added helpfully.
You groaned, but couldn't quite suppress your smile. "Can we just focus on finding this amazing food truck you mentioned?"
"Oh honey," Indi's grin was wicked, "you really think we're letting this go? You're about to move to Metropolis with that man. This is prime sisterly interrogation material."
As your sister dragged you through the neon-lit streets of Gotham, Dick and Jason providing running commentary on the best late-night eateries, you found your thoughts drifting back to the booth, to Tim's touch, to that unanswered question hanging between you.
Your phone buzzed in your purse:
From: Tim
Message: Dinner tomorrow? Somewhere without nosy siblings?
You bit your lip to hide your smile as you typed back a response:
To: Tim
Message: Only if you promise to let me order chocolate glazed dessert.
His reply was immediate:
From: Tim
Message: Deal. Though I still say Boston cream is superior.
"Oh my god, you're texting him already, aren't you?" Indi peered over your shoulder. "This is adorable. Dick, look how adorable they are!"
"I hate all of you," you declared, but your grin betrayed you.
"No you don't," Dick said cheerfully. "Just wait until family game night. Bruce is going to have an aneurysm."
As your sister and the Wayne brothers debated the merits of various food trucks, your phone buzzed one last time:
From: Tim
Message: For the record? I definitely want it to be a date.
The Gotham night suddenly felt a lot warmer.
"You know, we do have another sister-"
"Indi! Stop it!"
You lunged for your eldest sister, but she was already showing Dick and Jason photos of Scarlet on her phone. Running a hand down your face, you fought the urge to text your other sister a warning about Indi's matchmaking schemes.
"Scarlet might actually kill you, you know," you deadpanned. Indi just shrugged, elegant and unrepentant in her sequined glory.
"That girl needs more to life than her shop and Harkin," she stated with a dramatic eye roll, scrolling to another photo.
"Harkin brings up my point. She's a mom, Indi. She can't just—"
"Lalalala can't hear you!" Indi sang out, covering her ears like a child rather than the successful model she was.
"I swear you are not the oldest out of all of us," you muttered, watching as Dick and Jason peered at the phone with increasing interest. "She runs a successful business, has an adorable kid, and is actually happy. Why are you like this?"
Dick looked up from the phone, his expression thoughtful. "The flower shop on Kane Street? With the blue awning?"
"You know it?" you asked, surprised.
"Bruce gets arrangements from there sometimes," Jason supplied, then smirked. "Though I'm betting he'll be ordering a lot more now that his son's dating the owner's sister."
"We're not—" you started automatically, then stopped, thinking of Tim's text burning a hole in your phone. Were you? The memory of his hand on your thigh, his quiet question in the booth, made your cheeks warm.
"Oooh, she's blushing!" Indi crowed triumphantly. "And here I thought Scarlet would be the one to snag a Wayne. She always was the pretty one—"
"Shut up," you groaned, snatching her phone. "Scarlet will murder us both if she finds out you're showing her photos to random men in clubs."
"Random men?" Dick pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. "I'll have you know we are now practically family. In fact..." He plucked Indi's phone from your grasp with surprising agility and continued scrolling. "As your future brother-in-law, I think I have a right to know all about my new sisters."
"Oh my god," you muttered, watching helplessly as Indi and Dick huddled over the phone, Jason offering commentary that was absolutely not helping.
Your phone buzzed again:
From: Tim
Message: Everything okay? Jason just sent me a very cryptic text about flower shops.
You looked up to find Jason watching you with a knowing smirk. "Did you seriously just text him?"
"Someone's gotta keep baby bird in the loop," he shrugged. "Besides, your sister's shop really does do nice arrangements. Bruce wasn't lying about that."
"The pink roses last month were from there," Dick added absently, still scrolling with Indi. "The ones for that charity gala?"
You remembered those roses. Scarlet had spent hours getting the gradient just right, each bloom a slightly different shade of pink fading to white. She'd been so proud of that order, even if she hadn't known it was for Wayne Enterprises.
"Speaking of flowers," Indi's eyes gleamed dangerously, "didn't Scarlet just hire that new delivery guy? The one with the motorcycle?"
"Indi, I swear to god—"
Your phone buzzed again:
From: Tim
Message: Should I be worried that Dick just asked Alfred for the flower shop's number?
You typed back quickly:
To: Tim
Message: Your brothers are conspiring with my sister. Send help.
His response was immediate:
From: Tim
Message: On my way. Though I should warn you, once Dick gets an idea in his head...
You looked up to find Indi and Dick exchanging contact information, presumably to better coordinate their matchmaking schemes, while Jason watched the whole thing with undisguised amusement.
To: Tim
Message: Too late. I think we're going to be seeing a lot of family dinners in our future.
From: Tim
Message: Good thing I like your family then. Even if Indi is currently plotting with Dick to revolutionize Wayne Enterprises' floral arrangements.
Despite everything, you couldn't help but smile. Your ridiculous family and his ridiculous brothers, all tangled up in each other's lives now. It should have been terrifying, but somehow...
"See?" Indi nudged you, having apparently finished her plotting with Dick. "This is what happens when you finally let yourself have some fun. Now come on, that food truck isn't going to wait forever."
As you let yourself be pulled along the Gotham streets, your phone warm with Tim's messages in your hand, you thought maybe – just maybe – your sister had a point.
Even if you'd never, ever admit it to her face.
.
.
.
Taglist:
@ahqkas
@prettyktarou
@a-candle-maker
@mact85
@babxtxxn-blog
@mercys-manic-episode
@lilithskywalker
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@a-taken-url
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hey I was planning another post today but instead let’s talk about how much I love that there’s not really a ‘good’ ending to the companion plotlines in Veilguard. It reminds me of Leliana and Alistair’s plotlines in DAO in that what you choose says more about the player/protagonist than anything
I just finished Isana Negat a second time, and I did the other ending and I thought it was just as good. Like, yeah, Harding does deserve to be angry! They did fucking get everything taken away from them! It’s so painful and horrific; yes you can, and should, be mad! But also Harding prioritizing her very real love for and compassion towards other people is not wrong. It’s just different! It’s just Rook’s friend/lover asking them for advice, and Rook giving it! You know, like in real life except with huge magical rock giants
And okay I’m never going to kill Illario because I think it would make Luca really sad and he has enough problems, Whoops I misremembered this, I don’t think you can kill Illario actually. I love that for Luca <3 But yk, I’m probably still not going to imprison him. but I can see it! Because the cycle has to end, right? The violence and infighting of the Crows endlessly attacking each other over power is part of what allowed the Antaam to get a foothold in Antiva, because there was like a double agent or something (if I’m remembering right from Tev Nights). Some kind of ending needs to be made to this endless violence. And I suppose it depends on how retributive Rook is, which is a great question to ask of the player (one that is asked repeatedly throughout the game). It’s not like Illario didn’t do anything, you know! He probably deserves punishment. But Rook, as they always can at various points, can be merciful, can choose absolution. Wow no, I’m glad I was wrong I love it more like this.
And oh boy, I LOVED the ending of Emmrich’s quest, don’t even get me started! Like!! I thought it was going to be ‘well obviously we HAVE to save Manfred’, but how Emmrich talks about accepting his death and his sacrifice convinced me! I was like alright man, this is a real choice! I actually did make him a lich last time (made a lot of sense from a Watcher perspective, imo) and not only was the cutscene sick as hell, but the follow-up was so funny and I got some really sad Spite dialogue which fucking wrecked me. It was great— seriously, his plotline is one of my favorites in the whole game.
And Davrin’s! I’ve already expounded at length about how much I like his quest line and how it ties into the Grey Wardens, but I really think both of his options for the griffons are so workable, because you know the Grey Wardens, especially under Antione and Evka, aren’t going to hurt those little guys again! But also the scenes with Eldrin are so endearing, and Davrin’s hope for a brighter future for them is so sweet and genuine. It’s hard to pick! It’s about Rook's perspective!
Neve's I'll admit I don't vibe with as much just because of the like 'trust the authorities' angle, but i haven't tried saving Minrathous yet and I think it would be sooooo involving as a Shadow Dragon especially. Because that's what they're fighting for, right? That better Minrathous where they CAN be sure that if they send the insane cultist lady to prison she’s going to stay there? But there’s always the practical consideration of people’s lives being at stake NOW, of Neve needing her friends safe NOW. And just killing Aelia ensures she will never be an issue again. So I can see both angles for sure
And Taash ;-; oh, Taash. I haven’t posted about them that much yet because they make me very emotional and it’s hard to organize thoughts like that. But I really love their quest, and their struggle to define themselves. And look, I know people wanted the option to tell them they could be both, but like as a person who has lived a similar experience, it really feels sometimes like the world is making you choose. It can feel like you’re not enough of either thing for anyone. And there are parts of your identity that you will have to make a choice on, and I think it’s trying to speak to that. I did the Rivaini one, and it’s like… well, they’re embracing the culture of Rivain, but it’s not like anyone is ever going to look at them and NOT see a Qunari. You can’t get away from that. What you choose to do in response is a real dilemma and I think that if you engage with the text genuinely you can see what Trick was doing. Also, there is a really great dialogue from Rook that I think gives more context to the discussion; they can say that they have been many things, and it’s important to take what works from each experience and make it part of yourself. So I don’t think Taash’s plot is trying to make them throw away any of themselves, just defining priorities. (Sorry, that got long. Feelings, opinions about that one)
And I don’t think Bellara’s is obvious, either, especially with how they involve the Nadas Dirthalen in her personal plot. This is a thing that is really emotionally and culturally significant to her, but at the same time it is part of what hurt her brother and ultimately took him away from her. She’s really preoccupied with not causing harm by her actions; she spends the whole game worried about it! And even though Rook doesn’t see the dangerous elements of the repository, that doesn’t mean they’re not there. The puzzle quest you can find in Arlathan proves that other people besides Cyrian were taken in by Anaris. And also, there’s the plot thread they briefly touched on in the last game which is that the culture the Dalish have built, that they have RIGHT NOW, is not wrong. You can tell Solas during the romance that you want to keep the Vallaslin, even knowing what it once meant, because it means something else to the elves now. But it’s also important to remember history, even if it’s unpleasant or could be dangerous, which is another thing you can discuss with Bellara during the game. So there’s no wrong choice! It’s just about Rook and Bellara and what’s important from their perspectives.
Anyway it was super refreshing to have these kinds of choices! It reminds me of the best character choices in DAI and DAO, especially, and I’m so happy they carried those things forward and improved on them.
#datv spoilers#veilguard#dragon age: the veilguard spoilers#dragon age#veilguard spoilers#dragon age the veilguard#dragon age: the veilguard#Taash#bellara lutare#davrin#lucanis dellamorte#neve gallus#lace harding#emmrich volkarin
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Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 4 part 1
(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])
(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2])
It's episode 4 If I Can't Reach You / Let My Song Teach You, time for two of my favorite things: glam rock and homosexuals. which are basically the same thing if you think about it.
she's like damn, billy, that was ruthless. honestly this is going to make her care about billy even more, not only he's powerful, not only he reminds her of nicky. now he's a murderer too?? perfect son is perfect. I love how she's studying sharon's body with her detective Agnes face, her mind is going a million miles a minute
her third-wall-break winks destroy me. and that poor hairdo. all gone expect for the giant turd on top.
alice being truly and genuinely sorry about sharon. lilia and jen being gossiping hags
agatha honey you're so dainty and feminine, look at you. and that's an interesting and not at all painful tree shape you picked. (I would have never noticed any of this without brightening the scene, it's outrageous. everyone involved in this show is amazing except the lighting department. shame on you lighting department)
whatever alice does openly and sincerely, agatha does secretly or as a joke. parallels, parallels
jen is like, can you believe this bitch
without being asked, alice goes to help digging the grave
that is the idiot I fell in love with and I'm way past regretting my choices at this point!! I know how rio feels now
"coven two" is one of those lines that make you laugh on first view and shred your heart in a million tiny pieces at every following rewatch. this show HAS to be watched at least twice, don't ever trust reviews or complaints by ppl who didn't, because they missed at least half of what makes it great.
a clown running from the tragic truth that her son wrote the Ballad, making sad clown noises all over the Road
when alice is called to referee as the Resident Ballad Expert and agatha looks at her expectantly hands in pockets, somehow extremely obnoxious, extremely gay and extremely sad at the same time
alice is SO above bickering. jen is being a baby because she's mad at agatha, lilia is being a baby cause she's grumpy and a contrarian, billy is sixteen, agatha is, well, agatha. alice is the only adult in the building
just one, huh? that's fine. that's fine. who needs a heart anyway.
the common gypsophila or baby's breath symbolizes sincerity, purity, innocence. does it symbolizes sharon? or is billy leaving it on her grave a metaphor for his naivety and good intentions gone wrong?
billy's romantic ideals of what it means to be in a coven have just been shattered. he set out, consciously or not, to teach something to these witches and of course it didn't work. he is the one who needs guidance, he is the one who's making a mess of things. he's just a kid.
agatha going !! when billy says he wishes he could go home. agatha covertly pointing out that he has a replacement body and she would really like to know how. she's observing him so closely, trying to puzzle out the mystery. exactly like she did with wanda inside the Hex. not revealing her cards just yet, testing and manipulating him. when that strategy blew up in her face so spectacularly the first time! she's so smart and so reckless it makes her practically an idiot
case in point: she's making up stupid rules trying to manipulate billy into shaping the Road the way she wants. that's right, agatha. let's summon another poor victim you can siphon, wonder who's gonna show up! (and she KNEW sharon was laying dead ten feet away and SOMEONE was bound to be in the neighborhood. dumbass.)
aww he's so proud of himself for having brought the spellbook. he's being helpful! he's made his four moms happy!
check, debatable, check
debatable and debatable
I'm gonna give that one a BIG check
yes I know advil spells "vidal", thank you tumblr for letting me know that one. also same, alice.
'esse viridis non es facile' IT'S NOT EASY BEING GREEN?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! oh I knew my high school latin was bound to come in handy at least once in my life
(by the way the set + costumes combo is giving me such hocus pocus vibes, but you could never tell because the SCENE IS SO FUCKING DARK) (NO I WON'T SHUT UP ABOUT IT)
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAH
I mean girls, you chose to follow the head clown, you have to travel in the clown car. that's on you.
WHY IS THE PRINT SO SMALL???? I LOVE YOU PATTI LUPONE
admit it we all wished it was sharon for a moment
oh?? is that mayhaps someone you know, agatha???
and that's a wrap, see you guys tomorrow!
no, I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I'm doing another one tonight. I need to shove all the rio scenes in my eyeballs NOW
go to episode 4 part 2
#agatha all along#agatha deep dive#agatha harkness#alice wu gulliver#billy maximoff#lilia calderu#jennifer kale#character study
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damnatio memoriae:
In the Roman world, damnatio memoriae was used to describe a range of actions taken against former leaders and their reputations. These actions included: defacing visual depictions, removing heads from public statues, chiseling names off inscriptions, and destroying coins.
summary: reader, who goes by ‘Prima,’ was raised by a powerful Roman consul, under the reign of Imperator Septimius Severus. When it comes time for his eldest son, Caracalla, to marry again, a chain of events is set off, changing the course of Prima’s life and the lives around her.
⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡
warnings: mentions of parental death, mentions of war, ancient rome as a warning all in itself.
notes: there’s a lot of backstory here but I promise it is all pertinent to the story! I really did my best to research and make sure to write something I’m proud of. The dates are 100% not correct and I also pulled characters from the show “Barbarians” on Netflix. Some of this is not historically accurate (for instance, their mother didn’t die till years later.) This idea, however, was born from A. Me being insane and B. Many sleepless nights. The events of this fic begin before Gladiator II and will not exclusively follow the movie’s timeline or chain of events (aka Caracalla’s brain isn’t fried in the beginning and no one important is dead… yet) also, big thanks to @trashmouth-richie for listening to me scream about this for months and @londonfog-chan for beta’ing and becoming a fast friend.
⟡ Imperator- Septimius Severus
⟡ Augustus- Marcus Aurelius Antoninus “Caracalla”
⟡ Caesar- Publius Septimius Geta “Geta”
I
Rome, Fall AD 205
“You have his favor, Prima,”
Varus had said, his words echoing in your mind like the toll of a distant bell. He spoke casually, the sun casting long shadows across the marble courtyard while the Imperator was being formally welcomed home by a group of high-born Romans, the elite nobility of the court.
“Mother, what did Varus mean by that?” you asked later that night, your voice muffled as you chewed a piece of bread at dinner. The flickering candlelight danced in the air, illuminating the empty chair across the table where your father should have been—his absence a perpetual reminder that Rome was his first wife, his first love, his everything.
“The Imperator favors you,” your mother began, her tone measured yet distant. “It is obvious that he has taken a special interest in you.”
Her words hung heavy in the air, laden with unspoken truths.
“Do you think the Augustus had his wife killed?” you questioned, your innocence shining through like pure snow under the midday sun.
Visibly annoyed, your mother sipped her wine, the deep red liquid swirling in the glass like her thoughts. She paused, searching for the right words to quell your endless questioning.
“Plautilla and her brother were exiled after their father’s death, which followed the confirmation of his treachery,” she said, her voice carrying an air of finality, as if she were divulging information that should be inherently understood, “No one is dead except the traitor.”
It was all she would give you, a riddle wrapped in a mystery, until you would later stumble upon the truth.
__________________________________________________________________
“Ari,” you whispered, pulling back the sheer curtain to reveal his figure, his back turned to you.
“What’s the matter?” you asked, joining him at the balustrade, looking out into the distance.
He shook his head, his expression somber.
“I’m being made prefect.”
He stood gazing longingly over the view of Palatine Hill, the moonlight casting a silvery glow on his breastplate. As he turned to face you, his eyes met yours, holding a depth that mirrored the ocean on a sunny day. To call Ari German would only be half true. When Varus had taken him from the Cherusci tribe as a child, a mere eight years old, he was intended as a token of their submission to Rome. Raised in the image of Rome under the guardianship of a renowned general, Ari had found himself instead in the care of your mother, surrounded by slaves, servants, tutors, and nursemaids. An unmarried Roman general had neither the place nor the time to be a father. Ironically, despite these circumstances, Ari had molded himself into your life as naturally as the turning of the tides. His hair, dark as the endless night sky, was flecked with subtle highlights, and his muscles tensed beneath the fabric of his tunic. For all intents and purposes, Ari was the epitome of a Roman citizen, a Roman officer—tall, broad, with a face chiseled from marble. It only made sense that he stood guard of your household when your father was away, which, admittedly, was frequent.
“Wow,” you replied sarcastically, “shall I pretend to be shocked?” Your gaze lifted to meet his, a rueful smile playing on your lips.
“It is the natural order of things, is it not?”
Ari nodded, his silence a heavy cloak around him.
“Tell me,” you pressed on, “do you believe the young Augustus had his wife killed?”
“Why?” Ari’s eyes sparkled with a playful smile, “Are you afraid you’re next?”
You sighed, the weight of the world seeming to press down upon you. “What are our fathers planning?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted honestly, his voice low, “But I’m not sure either of us have a choice in the parts we must play.”
__________________________________________________________________
Babylon/Parthia, Spring AD 206
When the moment for travel arrived, a goat was sacrificed on the altar in honor of Neptune, its blood soaking the ancient stones. You, alongside Ari, your father, Varus, and two of your most trusted servants, then embarked on a ship bound for Parthia.
“I understand why you’re here,” you said, peering at Ari through the blur of his swaying figure as the ship rocked on a particularly rough set of waves, “But I don't understand why your father is involved.”
“Germania,” Ari began, leaning in to make himself heard over the sound of the sea, “He has been appointed governor.”
You shook your head, a mix of surprise and concern flickering across your face.
“I wasn’t aware of that.”
Ari nodded solemnly. “We’re leading three legions.”
Varus, despite his strengths, had always struggled with acknowledging his faults. When he had taken Ari from his home—where he was born to their leader, the Reik—he viewed it as a rescue. However, his decision to revoke the agreement that exempted the tribes from paying tributes to Rome had sparked rebellions.
“I assume you’ll accompany him once this brief meeting concludes?”
“No,” Ari replied, shaking his head. “Father will present his plans to the Imperator and update him on recent events. Afterward, he and I will journey to meet with the nearest legion.”
“What?” You couldn’t hide your astonishment, “You’re leaving me?”
“You’ll be assigned a new set of guards soon,” Ari reassured, though his tone carried a hint of uncertainty.
You eyed Ari suspiciously just as Varus and your father descended the small set of steps, their gazes meeting yours expectantly.
Together, the two men had always been a force of nature. Varus, at the peak of his military career, had aligned with Septimius Severus when he seized power, claiming new territories in the name of the Imperator. A power vacuum had emerged following Commodus’s death, which your father exploited, advancing from the senate to being elected consul by the people—an office he maintained through each subsequent election. Where Varus led, your father inevitably followed, the bonds of their shared childhood—reared by the same nurses and tutors—unbreakably strong. It was only natural that the two of them would undertake this journey together—the culmination of their ongoing efforts to please the Imperator.
Upon your arrival in Parthia, the chaos unfolded before you, its impact muting your entrance. The once majestic city was a shadow of its former glory, stripped of its power and reduced to ruins.
Parthia had been devastated, its lands desecrated by the advance of the Roman army. Although your four-day voyage was free from conflict, your nerves raged, mirroring the tides after a fierce storm. Most of the Roman forces had moved northward, heavy with the spoils of war. This included hundreds of slaves and treasures beyond all imagination. Every village in their path had been ruthlessly flattened and set aflame. Every well poisoned, livestock slaughtered, the surviving Parthians–few and unfortunate– were mercilessly sent to meet their gods.
Formal greetings were promptly exchanged among the men. Nearby, two boys observed you intently. They were presumably the young Augustus, Caracalla, and his younger brother, Geta, who had not yet achieved the rank of his elder sibling, having only had the title of ‘Caesar’ bestowed upon him. You recalled meeting them years ago when their father had briefly governed Sicilia. All of you were mere children then, no older than six. Your father counseled as needed, allowing you to run freely with the two boys within the confines of the governor's villa under the strict eye of the nastiest nurse you had ever met. You had crossed the threshold of eighteen now, the elder brother barely a year your senior.
They stood an arm's length apart, arms crossed over their chests, eyes squinting as they scrutinized you from head to toe. You wondered how they hadn’t melted under the sun, their skin milk-white despite the unforgiving heat searing down.
As you approached the Imperator, you were taken aback when he grasped your hand and placed a chaste kiss on the back of it before you had even had a chance to bow your head.
“Prima,” he bellowed, his deep voice startling the servants behind you, “welcome to our humble camp.”
‘Humble’ was certainly a choice word. Even with half the army marching back towards Rome, numerous tents filled with officers, praetors, and generals were arranged in a grid-like formation along the wall that surrounded the city.
“Thank you, Imperator,” you replied with a smile. “It is my honor to be here.”
Next came a tour of the grounds and an explanation of the recent pillaging and destruction, led by Septimius with his two sons beside him and the rest of the men following. You were ushered away, escorted to where you would be sleeping, your servants trailing behind, pleasantly surprised to find your belongings had already been neatly arranged inside the elegant, yet functional, tent.
The antechamber was lit by two oil lamps, casting a warm glow that highlighted the tapestry emblazoned with your family's crest, a striking sight upon entering. The structure itself was supported by ornately carved wooden poles, strategically placed throughout the space. Fabric partitions divided the tent into designated areas for sleeping and dining, creating a sense of order and privacy.
A wooden bed, adorned with light bedding atop a plush feather mattress, promised comfort. Next to your sleeping quarters, a separate section was reserved for your servants, ensuring that both privacy and accessibility were maintained. Nearby, multiple chairs and folding tables were arranged, with the floor beneath them covered in luxurious animal skins.
"What do we do now?" asked Aeneas, your trusted servant and longtime friend.
You shrugged as you sat down on a chaise. "We wait."
__________________________________________________________________
Being seated between the two brothers at an early dinner was far from what you had expected. You knew they would be close, but having you sandwiched between them was less than ideal. As soon as you entered the room and saw them snickering, you could sense their mood. It had been years since you had been this close to either of them, but the memories of the insults hurled back and forth during your childhood were vivid. You quickly remembered the streak of cruelty that seemed to run deep in both brothers.
As a servant pulled out the chair for you, you smiled, bowed your head, and took your seat.
"How nice of you to finally join us," Geta remarked, his smile dripping with sarcasm as he took a modest sip of wine. Caracalla giggled beside you, prompting you to sigh.
"I came as soon as I was called," you assured him, picking up your glass for a sip.
"Brother, are you sure she wasn’t the servant? That slave they brought in was much better looking." Caracalla chimed in. At that moment, you knew exactly what game they were playing.
You huffed, but your smile never wavered.
"You know, the women in the palace snicker as you walk by. Caracalla, what exactly is a ‘penis aciculatus?’" you asked, maintaining a casual, laid-back smile.
"If you hadn't grown tits, I would’ve sworn you were a boy all this time," he retorted. "Perhaps you still are."
"And you would like that, wouldn’t you?" you spat back, leaving Caracalla speechless as Geta picked up the slack.
"Someone must tell the servants to stop feeding dogs at the table," Geta said as he grabbed your plate and handed it to the nearest servant.
"May I please have more olives?" you asked politely, receiving a nod from the servant who took your plate away. You sighed, relieved that a scene had been averted.
All three of you exchanged fake smiles, appearing to get along splendidly to the other men at the table, who were lost in their own conversations.
"I’m going to marry your father and have you both crucified," you smiled, letting out a faint laugh.
"Not if we kill you first," Caracalla retorted.
"I heard your father sent out a search party just to find someone willing to marry you, Prima," he added with a giggle.
"I’ve heard they had to hire servants of a certain height to follow you around just to reach things up high," you responded, eliciting a laugh from Geta, which in turn caused Caracalla to clench his fist, nearly rearing it back to land a punch in his brother’s direction.
“Prima,” Septimius called out, his booming voice cutting through the tension that was nearly turning physical between you and the brothers, “do you ride?”
“She does,” your father interrupted before you had the chance to respond, “I’ve always said she would have made an excellent charioteer in another life.”
Septimius smiled, nodding approvingly.
“Good, because there’s something I’d like to show you after dinner. A quick ride will get us there in no time.”
“Sounds excellent, Imperator,” you replied, offering him a genuine smile.
“‘Sounds excellent, Imperator,’” Caracalla mimicked in a high-pitched tone.
“No wonder your mother died,” you retorted calmly, “She probably couldn’t bear the thought of spending another moment with either of you.”
“Magae,” Caracalla hissed through clenched teeth, “You filthy little wench.”
You responded only with a smile, echoing his signature giggle back at him.
___________________________________________________________
Septimius rode at the center, astride his horse with Caracalla on his right and you on his left, flanked by a number of guards. The knowledge that the Praetorians had secured the surrounding blocks of Babylon, creating a protective bubble around the heart of the empire, did little to ease the knot of fear in your stomach. The possibility of a stray arrow, one capable of changing the fate of the empire, laid heavily on your mind as you rode through the town.
Caracalla was deep in conversation with his father about Alexander the Great, barely pausing for breath as the three of you approached the ornate building ahead.
“That building houses Alexander’s deathbed.” Septimius announced, slowing his horse.
His eyes sparkled as he glanced at Caracalla, offering him a glimpse of the past as if bestowing a wish upon him. You found it strange, recalling what little you knew of Alexander and his rise to the level of a god. Dismounting, Septimius assisted you down while Caracalla rushed ahead, his expression a mix of awe and fervor.
You wandered away from them towards the residential quarters of the palace, accompanied by two guards. The decor was as lavish as it was ancient, befitting a ruler though only governors had resided there for years. Entering a room, you stumbled upon a modest scene consisting of a bed raised on a three-step dais, a small tiled pool, and a simple podium. It was unremarkable, and you felt no urge to call out until Caracalla burst into the room, exclaiming, “This is it.”
“You like Alexander,” you observed, watching his reaction closely.
“No, I admire him,” he corrected sharply. “He expanded a small nation to rival the expanse of Rome in just thirteen years.”
“Julius Caesar also idolized him,” Septimius added, entering the room.
“And he was stabbed twenty-three times,” you blurted out impulsively.
Caracalla’s piercing gaze met yours, charged with an intensity that made the air around you feel heavy. Septimius smiled, as if you had made his point for him.
"Since you know everything, what do you know about Alexander?" Caracalla hissed, his eyes narrowing as he sized you up, testing your knowledge.
Septimius stood at the edge of the room, leaning against the doorway with baited breath, watching the exchange unfold.
"I know of his triumphs, his beginnings, his end," you began, your voice steady, "But I was always more fascinated by his mother, Olympias."
"They say she slept with a bed full of snakes." Caracalla interrupted with a dismissive wave.
"And she secured the throne for Alexander by orchestrating the death of his father and his young bride," you countered firmly.
"She had their newborn daughter dragged across a hot brazen iron oven. His wife slit her wrists and bled out in a warm bath because of her grief," Caracalla retorted, challenging your morality.
"Olympias ensured her son's legitimacy and handed him the empire on a silver platter," you responded, emphasizing her role in Alexander’s rise without highlighting her alleged brutalities.
"That's why I’ve brought you two here today," Septimius interjected, stepping forward and looking between you both. "Who we surround ourselves with is crucial—family is important, our legacy is important."
You exchanged a glance with Septimius, then Caracalla, absorbing the gravity of his words.
"The two of you will be married once we return to Rome," Septimius declared with a smile.
You quickly masked your surprise, bowing your head respectfully. Caracalla crossed his arms, his face contorting with disdain.
"I am grateful for the honor, Imperator."
"I am not marrying this witch, father," he spat vehemently.
Septimius gave you an almost apologetic look. "Prima, please leave us."
You exited as requested, their escalating argument fading behind you. Caracalla’s insult hung in the air.
"She probably sleeps with snakes!"
"Enough!" Septimius’s voice thundered.
Stepping outside, you exhaled deeply, not realizing you had been holding your breath.
Caracalla brushed past you, his shoulder bumping yours.
"Witch," he muttered under his breath as he mounted his horse.
"I assure you, the only snake I will ever lay with will be you," you shot back sharply.
For a moment, a smirk flickered across Caracalla’s face, almost pleased by your retort. But then his expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he grabbed the reins and rode off.
⟡ latin translations ⟡
⟡‘penis aciculatus’- prickly penis
⟡ magae- witch
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dividers by @ghoulbloggerrr
#emperor caracalla x reader#gladiator ii fanfiction#emperor caracalla x reader x emperor geta#gladiator ii#gladiator 2#emperor caracalla fred hechinger#emperor geta joseph quinn#emperor caracalla#emperor geta
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Decided to make Pokémon teams for the Splatoon idols because i was bored.
Also these teams aren't meant to be competitive, they are just trying to capture what the character is all about and who they are.
Callie's team.
Tinkaton because it's a cute pink Pokémon with a giant ass melee weapon, it fits Callie perfectly, Charizard because Callie represented team Red (and yes it can mega evolve too into either X or Y depending on how Callie is feeling), Milotic because it represents Callie's beauty, Heracross because of Callie's childhood days of bug catching, Malamar due to it's hypnotic abilities (I wonder what i could be talking about here...) and Callie's darker traits, and Ninetails because Marie traded her a Vulpix. I went with the Alolan version because of type variety and it's fairy too.
Marie's team.
The first two picks should be obvious on why they are here, Venusaur and Blastoise because Marie represented team Green in Japan and team Blue in the west (Venusaur can mega evolve and Blastoise can Gigantamax depending on the rules of the match), Inteleon due to it's sniping skills and it's based on a spy. The New Squidbeak Splatoon are meant to be undercover so i think it fits. Noctowl because Marie was on team Night Owl, Palossand because Marie was on team Sandcastle and Dragapult because it shoots out Dreepys at supersonic speeds much like how Marie fires insanely fast shots.
Pearl's team.
Pearl's team was by far the hardest to come up with for me but i managed to get some picks. Gholdengo because it's a Pokémon made out of coins and as we know, Pearl is RICHHHHHHH!!!!!! Exploud because it's a loud sound Pokemon that yells, much like what Pearl does with her Princess Canon, Armarouge because Pearl was on team Knight and to better protect her wizard wife Marina, Toxtricity due to it's connections to punk rock and Pearl's early days. Noivern because it's yet another sound Pokemon, and finally Celesteela because it's a large flying Pokemon and Pearl is known to have a plane, plus it connects to Pearl's space theme in her more recent appearances.
Marina's team.
All of Marina's choices stem from her love of machinery, electronics and technology. Of course she was gonna pack her team with steel, electric and psychic types, she loves them!! Porygon-z was included too because it's a Pokemon that's made out of programming that became unstable, similar to Marina's creation of Overlorder.
Shiver's team.
Shiver would obviously have a Sharpedo, duh, no shit, Gyarados because it's a ferocious water type that Shiver would probably love, Meowscarada because Shiver picked team Grass and it's her favourite type, and speaking of grass, I picked Roserade and Tsareena because they are grass types that i thought matched Shiver's vibes. And finally... Garchomp, i wonder why i picked the land SHARK!!!!!!!!!!! And yes, it can mega evolve too.
Frye's team.
Skeledirge because Frye picked team Fire and it seems to be her favourite type, Darmanitan because it's a fire type that matches Frye's personality, Cinderace because it's a fire bunny and guess what team Frye picked in the Springfest, Seviper and Eelektross to represent Frye's clan which has a large focus on eel taming. And Gouging Fire because it's a fire dragon Pokémon that has a regal look to it and it reminds me of that one Sunken Scroll entry showing Frye or someone else in a fancy outfit.
Big Man's team.
Mantine because it's a manta ray, guess who is also a manta ray.... Quaquaval because Big Man picked team Water, Scizor because Big Man chose team Scissors in the first Splatfest of Splatoon 3, Ursaluna because of the SpringFest (plus i think it's funny to have a bear Pokémon in one of Deep Cut's teams), Dusknoir because of Big Man's pick in Splatoween, plus Dusknoir is stated to help guide spirits back to their homes and Big Man said in the Splatfest dialogue that he wants to help ghosts. And Snorlax because i think it fits Big Man, i could see them chilling out in a grassy field somewhere.
So yeah, that's it! Let me know what you think! Will you try out one of these teams? Do you think there are Pokémon that better suit the Idols?
I will also leave you with this surprise Pokémon team belonging to another character in the Splatoon franchise, see if you can figure out who it is.
#splatoon#splatoon 3#splatoon 2#pokemon#pokemon team#callie cuttlefish#callie splatoon#marie cuttlefish#marie splatoon#pearl houzuki#pearl splatoon#marina ida#marina splatoon#shiver hohojiro#shiver splatoon#frye onaga#frye splatoon#big man#squid sisters#off the hook#deep cut#splatfest
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